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The Dragon In The Dungeon: Installment 9

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Chapter One

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"Alia Silverrain. You are hereby summoned before The Queen's Court."

Alia took a deep breath to try and calm the hammering of her heart. It was time. She told herself she was ready. She was prepared. This would go well. Alia repeated the mantra in her head a few times. She'd been waiting for this moment for some time, and she murmured to herself that she held the advantage here. Still, despite her preparation and her attempts at confidence, she could not stop the twisted noose of nervousness from tightening around her throat.

Lord Armadine had finally brought his charges of assault against Alia before the Queen for a formal hearing.

Alia flicked her dark green eyes towards Bownen, the Queen's servant who'd come to fetch her. "Thank you Bownen," she said with a little smile.

Bownen returned the smile, bowing to her a moment. He'd give her a few moments to finish collecting herself. He folded his arms behind his back, and took up a position near the row of high-backed chairs with the gold toned cushions along the wood-paneled wall. Alia occupied one chair but the rest were empty. The room itself was but a small antechamber for those awaiting their turn before the Queen in the Grand Hall.

Alia was glad Bownen allowed her a little time. She rather liked the Queen's personal attendant after getting to know him little bit. After Her Majesty came to visit Valyrym, Alia had met with the Queen a few more times, and Bownen was always around. Alia found him a friendly enough sort in the rare moments when he wasn't kowtowing to stiff traditions and royal protocols. The older man had instructed her on courtside protocol and the way politics worked, and he was just as quick to point out when Alia was being wildly inappropriate. Alia had also caught the little smile that flashed across his face when he muttered that only he was allowed to get away with saying inappropriate things to Her Majesty.

Oh, the look on Bownen's face when the Queen herself mentioned that the old dragon dwelling beneath the castle had gotten away with far worse.

Alia lifted her face to smile at Bownen. The lifelong royal attendant was entering his old age with as much grace as possible. His hair was more silver than gray, and so carefully coifed Alia could easily imagine him brushing every individual hair one at a time. Compared to the colorful garb Alia usually saw him wearing, Bownen was dressed in unusually drab tones today. He wore a sharply cut gray overcoat with silver buckles along the sleeves over the top of a simple, indigo vest done up with ebony buttons. His trousers bore similar colors, dark blue with gray piping, tucked into dull gray stockings. Black leather shoes and silver buckles completed his outfit.

The colors of Illandra, Alia noted. Formal colors for a formal trial.

Alia allowed herself a bitter smirk. As if this were a formal trial. She knew how this was going to go. The Queen made it clear enough. Armadine was here to drag her through the muck. To punish her for daring to raise her hands to a noble, to defend the dragon from his unwarranted torment. The noble was going to do whatever he could to smear Alia's name and reputation in front of as many people as possible.

The Queen had clarified a few other things for Alia recently, as well. Alia knew there was little she could truly do to dispute the charges. She had after all left the man with a few scars, a few less teeth, and a permanently reconfigured nose. The Queen would have to issue punishment of some kind, yet admitting to the crime would lessen the harshness of the sentence. Whatever the punishment, Alia would gladly beat the smugness off Armadine's face again just to keep him away from her dragon.

Perhaps more importantly, Alia knew Kathlyn would give her a chance to tell her side of the story. The Queen wished the Warden to tell everyone in the court exactly what Armadine had done to earn his beating. Let the other nobles see what a monster he was. With any luck they might even glimpse the leader Alia could be.

That was part of the Queen's endgame, after all. To convince the rest of the kingdom that the Aran'alians were fit to lead themselves. Alia would do whatever she could to help the Queen in that effort. This was likely to be the Queen's last official business in Illandra before she left on her journey to visit Aran'alia. To propose liberation to the land that Illandra had conquered so many years ago.

A liberated Aran'alia. The very idea was enough to make Alia smile as she rose from her chair. Holding her head high and squaring her shoulders, Alia followed Bownen into the Grand Hall of Illandra.

From the small, wood-paneled antechamber that served as waiting room Bownen led Alia through an immense wooden door. The door was cut from dark walnut and carved in detailed relief. The image upon it depicted the first King of Illandra, standing before the kingdom's signature five-towered keep. In the carving, the King held his hand to the castle as though raising the five massive towers through sheer force of will. The sun rose behind them as if to greet his great achievement.

Beyond that door was the Grand Hall of Illandra where the Queen's throne sat. The Grand Hall was in some ways the centerpiece of the Central Keep, the innermost sanctum of the Illandran castle. Though Queen Kathlyn preferred to conduct business in her offices, the Grand Hall was where she received important dignitaries and visiting rulers, where she conducted high level meetings with her generals, and where she held court when a matter arose that she herself had to preside over.

Bownen came to a stop just inside the door. Alia paused as well, peering around the Grand Hall. Towering columns of rich, red marble lined the long, wide chamber. Each red column was fluted in a spiraling pattern, wreathed in an elegant swirl of golden vine. Near the ceiling the pillars spanned out into deeply curved arches that stretched for the length of the room. It reminded Alia a little of the pillars and ceiling of Valyrym's dungeon, though those here were far more elegant if not as large. Between each column stood delicate fixtures that were all golden curves holding mirrored lamps. Muted light in scintillating colors shone down through wall length stained glass windows depicting scenes from Illandran history. The room was heavily scented with lilac, lavender, and faintly smoky incense that burned in pots near the door. The murmur of dozens upon dozens of hushed voices rolled around the room as though the sound was a living thing looking for a way to escape its stony confines.

The crowd was gathered towards the far end of the court. There were more nobles and wealthy Illandrans there than Alia had ever seen in one place. Most of them were likely part of the families that ruled the various conquered provinces on Illandra's behalf. Many of them looked as though they thought clothing only existed to try and prove you had more wealth than the person next to you. Hell, Alia would be surprised if half of them could even dress themselves. They probably had servants for that.

Alia smirked, then bit her tongue as she chastised herself. She should not make such generalizations. Surely even among the wealthy and the nobles there were plenty of good people. If she wanted them to think better of the Aran'alians, then she had to set the example. She had to think better of them. She could not let people like Armadine give all the nobles and wealthy Illandrans a bad name.

Queen Kathlyn herself had already put the truth to that lie.

Bownen started forward again, leading Alia along a long golden rug that seemed spotless despite the many footfalls that must have already passed across it. Alia let her eyes wander over the assembled crowd as she followed Bownen towards the far end of the Grand Hall. Alia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at half the outfits she saw. There was a man dressed head to toe in scarlet silk, complete with tri-pointed hat with three bright red feathers. Another man bore so many layers of stockings, vests, jackets, and other garments that he looked more like a puffy children's doll than an actual person. It was a wonder he hadn't gotten lost inside his own clothing on the way to the court. A woman with a frilly purple hoop skirt bore so much golden jewelry she actually seemed to have trouble moving around without it interfering.

The whole damn lot looked comprised of fools and self-obsessed fops. No wonder the Queen disliked them.

Finally, Alia spotted people who seemed to have dressed as though they had more sense than money rather than the other way around. She was not especially surprised to see that they had already taken their seats. Clearly they were more concerned with the outcome of this trial than they were about simply being seen here. There was an older man sitting by himself, wearing a simple green and gray jacket. A woman in a stylish but comfortable blue dress had settled herself nearby. Alia almost wished she knew who half the people here were.

One thing was certain, she was the only Aran'alian in the room. That much was not a surprise to her. She suspected half the people here employed Aran'alian servants and yet had never seen one rise to a position of power like Alia herself had. Her suspicions seemed confirmed when the various nobles and other gathered men and women set eyes upon her. Surprise flickered in many gazes, and whispers began to pass from ear to ear, hushed yet resonating.

Alia could almost hear them now.

Oh my, that must be her. She really is an Aran'alian!

To think they'd give someone like her such a job.

How dare she strike someone above her status. I hope the Queen tosses her in that dungeon with her filthy beast forever.

Come to think of it, that last one wouldn't be so bad.

Alia kept her posture strong and proud as she strode forward, unafraid to meet anyone's gaze. She smiled at them, one and all. She saw hostility here and there. Sometimes it was open and scornful. Other times it was shielded but roiling. Yet Alia also saw acceptance among some of those in the crowd. Others seemed pleasantly surprised the Aran'alian woman seemed so well mannered. A few even seemed hopeful. The older man in the green jacket smiled at Alia and gave her a little nod.

Alia returned the smile, and absently adjusted her blouse just a little. She'd dressed for the occasion. A few days earlier she had paid Paulson a visit and asked the clothier to tailor her something suitable for a trial held before the Queen. Paulson knew both the Queen and protocol well. He'd worked for Kathlyn for a time. Alia suspected they had once been more than simple friends though she dared not bring it up. Paulson was happy to take the request.

The outfit Alia now wore consisted of a blouse cut carefully to present a look of authority rather than femininity. It did not hide Alia's curves but nor did it show them off. The blouse was the color of slate, with indigo patches across the shoulders, and matching indigo piping down the sleeves and around the collar. The traditional golden Warden's Office emblems were pared down to a smaller size and settled into those indigo patches to accent the colors of Illandra. A pair of gray leather breeches complimented the colors of the blouse well, with black and gold stitching down the outside of each leg. A leather belt tooled in a scale pattern and dyed a dark blue continued the Illandran color theme. Both the belt and her black shoes bore silver buckles.

Alia tied her raven-hued hair into a long ponytail with a few simple blue bands. She wore her heirloom necklace. In the light cast from mirrored lamps the sapphire shone with a rich blue light and the silver frame sparkled. The sunlight that poured through stained glass highlighted the olive-toned skin of her cheeks in a way that made them seem even darker than usual. That was alright with Alia. Let them know she was proud to be Aran'alian. All the better when they would hear her testimony and discover she was not some ill-bred, uneducated backwater simpleton like they might expect.

"This will be your seat," Bownen said softly. He gestured towards a small square table of rich dark cherry wood. The table was carefully polished to show off the swirls of black that marked the dark, reddish brown wood. A series of folders were already stacked atop the table for her. There was also a small ledger available for taking notes, as well as a black feathery quill sitting inside a silver pot of ink. Bownen quickly moved to pull out Alia's chair. Soft red cushions covered the seat and the back of the chair. "Here you are, Miss Silverrain."

Alia smiled at his formality. "Thank you, Bownen."

Alia took her seat, and scooted it forward to the table, glancing around. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Enric's red-haired head was easy enough to spot. Much as she wished to smile at him and wave, this was not the place. Yet it was a comfort knowing he was already here, ready to support her. The guard wore a dark blue shirt with sleeves of silver, and formal gray trousers. She recognized a few other faces as well, including Servant Master Kesh.

Nearer the throne was a small area of seats reserved for those closer to the Queen. Several of her advisers sat there, though Alia did not recognize them personally. She did, however, recognize Prince Elvir. Despite spending quite a bit of time with the Queen, Alia had never met Kathlyn's son. Yet even without the portraits of him in the Queen's chambers the resemblance was clear. Elvir held the same red hair, the same piercing blue eyes, and at least at the moment, the same regal gaze. He was a stout looking young man with a slightly square jaw and a soldier's build. The Prince wore a regal looking tunic of deep purple with gold hemmed sleeves, and a bit of a frill around the collar. Several guards stood nearby, keeping watch over him.

On the other side of the Grand Hall was another table set up like Alia's. Alia scowled when she saw Lord Armadine seated at it. A set of folders and small books lay on the table before him. Armadine was dressed in a silken, pale-green jacket with leaf-like patterns outlined in gold strewn across the sleeves. Dark golden trousers with black threading that spiraled down the seam were neatly tucked into formal gray stockings just above elegant black boots. Next to him sat an older man in set of simple, brown clothes. The shirt and trousers both looked nicely pressed. Alia had spotted the man a time or two before, usually in a robe. Armadine and his advisor were conversing quietly and if they'd noticed Alia's gaze they did not bother to acknowledge it.

The Queen's Throne was as yet empty. Kathlyn would be the last to actually enter the Hall. Alia was pleasantly surprised to find the throne almost as grandiose as she'd imagined. Not that she was disappointed by Kathlyn's general lack of royal pageantry but it was nice to see there was a bit of royal pomp somewhere in Illandra.

The throne itself was large and high-backed but not so immense that Kathlyn would get lost when she sat upon it. It seemed designed after an elegant take on the five-towered keep that was Illandra's emblem. Five wooden spires rose above the thick azure and ash tone cushions that covered the back of the chair. Each spire was a different kind of wood: oak, mahogany, walnut, and two more exotic dark woods Alia could not identify. Each spire was carved with different designs and signs. One pinnacle held curling vines, another ended in the point of a spear while a third was engraved with stylized gryphons and so on.

The throne itself sat upon a raised dais of the same red marble that made up the pillars lining the Grand Hall. Three steps at the side of the dais were edged in gold. Though the throne took up the center of the dais there was plenty of room all around it. If the Black Bird were still in town, Alia could not help but wonder if he would have been seated next to the Queen, glowering and serving as her personal bodyguard during such a trial. Perhaps the open secret of his existence was not quite that open. Yet it certainly would have made for an intimidating entrance should the Queen have strode in atop the gryphon.

Alia knew the Queen hardly needed a gryphon to keep her safe. There were already a few of the Kathlyn's personal guard keeping watch over the Grand Hall. They'd searched everyone who entered the room already. Now some of them were positioned near the throne while others stood alongside the various entrances. They were just as heavily armed as they had been every other time Alia had seen them. The only difference now was that each wore a gray and blue surcoat over their plated armor and mail, a silver keep with five towers emblazoned upon the front of each surcoat. Formal colors for a formal trial.

A hidden door ensconced in the stone wall behind the throne suddenly opened, and another dozen guards filed out. As one they marched to the area between the throne and the tables where Alia and Armadine sat. Each man bore a heavy spear in addition to his other weapons, tied with ceremonial blue and silver ribbons. In perfect unison they thumped the haft of their spears against the stone floor three times. The sound echoed through the hall, demanding silence from all those in attendance.

"Be silent and stand for the Queen!" Called out the guard's captain. Alia recognized the man from his standoff with Valyrym.

Alia rose to her feet, as did everyone else who was not already standing. Anyone occupied with conversation quieted and turned towards the throne. Bownen walked out in front of everyone, gesturing in a grand arc towards the door. "Presenting Her Majesty, The Queen of Illandra, Kathlyn the Second."

Bownen was the first to drop to a knee, and bow his head. He did so before Kathlyn had even emerged, and the rest of the audience followed his lead though the guards did not budge. Alia lowered herself to one knee and bowed, thankful for the previous instructions she'd been given by Bownen the first time she met the Queen. While everyone kept their heads down, Kathlyn entered the room and crossed to her throne. Alia saw golden fabric sliding across the stone floor, then saw it hoisted slightly as Kathlyn ascended the three golden edged stairs. Only when Kathlyn had settled into the throne did she acknowledge those bowing before her.

"Be seated," was all the Queen said.

Alia blinked. She'd half expected Kathlyn to wave her hand, and tell everyone to stop acting so damn formal. The fact she did not simply reminded Alia this was not a private meeting. It also made her smile. She wondered just how many people here even knew the Queen as well as she did. How many of those self-obsessed nobles knew of the Queen's dislike for formality? Alia would have loved to see the looks on their face if they learned how the Queen had deigned to share casual conversation with an Aran'alian. And if they ever learned that she'd snuggled up against a dragon, they'd probably soil their over-priced trousers.

Alia rose and moved to her seat along with everyone else. Rows of cushioned chairs and simple benches were placed on either side of the grand hall for those in attending in observation. Once people had settled into their seats, the guards moved to take up new positions between those observing the trial and the Queen herself. Some of them flanked the throne directly. Others stood near the benches and seats, and yet more guards remained positioned at all doorways. Another set of guards moved to stand alongside the tables where Alia and Armadine sat. Alia grit her teeth, resolving not to let the guards unnerve her.

"Alia Silverrain," Kathlyn said as soon as silence had descended over the hall. Alia snapped her eyes to the Queen. "You are called before this court to answer for charges of unwarranted assault inflicting bodily harm."

"Your Majesty, if I may," Armadine said, his voice as smooth as oiled silk. "The Charges are in fact, unwarranted assault inflicting bodily harm upon a nobleman."

Kathlyn tilted her head, her face totally unreadable. "Your point Lord Armadine?"

"It is my understanding that such a crime carries a higher penalty."

Kathlyn leaned forward slightly in her throne. "You believe that because you are a nobleman, any assault upon your person should receiver a stiffer punishment than assault upon anyone else?"

"Stiffer punishment than assault upon a person of a lesser position, yes," Armadine smiled to himself. "That is my understanding of the law. Is it inaccurate?"

"Your understanding is correct, Lord Armadine."

Alia winced inwardly, but kept the grimace from showing upon her face. Armadine was quick, she had to give him that. And well prepared. Yet Alia had not come here unprepared, either. Hell, the Queen herself had helped Alia prepare for this. Alia smiled for a moment, then looked over the Queen who now sat before her.

The woman on the throne was almost unrecognizable. Every trace of Kathlyn's humble private manner had been completely replaced by the aura of a monarch in absolute command of her empire. Her dark blue eyes were unreadable, and her gently lined face seemed cut from stone. She wore a dress that cascaded down her body in layers of golden lace and fabric that despite the color and expense looked completely regal rather than lavish. Much of her gray-streaked red hair was obscured by the heavy Illandran Crown. Much like the throne on which she sat, the crown itself called to mind the five towers of the Illandran keep. A heavy gold circlet supported five spires each carved from a different precious metal. Each spire also bore a different jewel. The circlet itself was fastidiously engraved with tiny yet detailed images of Illandran history and former monarchs.

"Alia Silverrain." The Queen's tone made it clear she expected an acknowledgement.

Alia bowed her head. "Your Majesty?"

"You have been charged with unwarranted assault inflicting bodily harm," The Queen said, repeating the previous charge. Then she glanced at Armadine. "On a nobleman." She turned her attention back to Alia. "How do you answer these charges?"

"I offer no dispute that I assaulted this man," Alia said, keeping her eyes level with the Queen. "Yet I..."

"You see?" Armadine waved his hand towards Alia dismissively, raising his voice for the crowd. "She admits it! She's an Aran'alian, so that is no surprise." There were rumblings of agreement from some in attendance. "We all know they're savages at heart."

"Armadine." The Queen's tone was sharp, and Armadine went silent. "You will keep your outbursts to yourself or I shall have you gagged. I will not have you interrupting everyone with your blather. You shall get your turn to speak, but you shall wait until such time has arrived. Is that clear?"

Armadine bowed his head as deeply as he could, a decent attempt at feigning true humility. "Crystalline, Your Majesty. My apologies."

Kathlyn glared at him a moment, then waved her hand towards Alia. Alia noticed she hadn't painted her nails today. A shame, she rather liked the blue tones that often adorned them. "You were saying, Alia Silverrain?"

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Alia licked her lips, forcing strength to her voice. The Queen was on her side. The Queen wanted her to tell her story. "I was saying that while I do not dispute that I did indeed hit Lord Armadine, I will dispute to my dying day the fact that it was unwarranted. Lord Armadine is guilty of a far more serious assault than the one he suffered."

"Yes," Kathlyn said, crooking a few fingers towards Bownen. The attendant climbed the stairs to the throne, bowed, and passed her a small book bound in red leather before backing away. "I have read your pre-trial testimony. You claim to be defending your prisoner."

"That is correct Your Majesty."

Kathlyn flicked through the book. "So. Your defense is based upon the fact that Lord Armadine injured The Dragon, and you assaulted him in return."

"This was not a back-alley brawl," Armadine spoke up. "She struck me from nowhere."

Alia kept her tongue. She was happy to let Armadine tie a noose with his own words and hang himself with it. The Queen glared at him, and with a sigh Armadine went silent. He glared at Alia, folding his arms. Alia glared back at him for a moment but refused to play his game.

"That is correct Your Majesty. I realize I was wrong for punishing him in return, and that I should have brought the matter to your attention. But when the incident occurred, Lord Armadine had returned to assault the dragon a second time. The injuries I inflicted upon him were in fact in defense of the dragon. I simply could not let him harm my prisoner again."

Armadine blinked. He slowly lifted his head, giving Alia a glare through narrowed eyes. He had not expected that line of defense. He murmured to Traval, and the older man began to scribble down a few notes.

Alia went on. "As I have already admitted, yes, I struck this man. I will accept without complaint any punishment Your Majesty sees fit. However, I would first humbly beg Your Majesty to allow me to tell my side of the story. To explain just what cruelty Lord Armadine had already inflicted. Why I had to resort to violence to ensure he was unable to inflict such torment again when I saw him heading towards the dungeon stairs." Alia paused a moment, letting her words hang in the air. "With his whip." There were a few murmurs among the audience, just as Alia had hoped. "I would also ask that you consider such facts before you hand down whatever punishment you feel is just."

Alia thought she saw a glimmer of amusement flicker in Kathlyn's eyes. The Queen seemed pleased so far, though Alia could not be certain. "That is just and fair, Alia. However, to allow such testimony means I shall also have to allow Armadine to offer his own testimony. The same holds true if you should call any witnesses before me. Do you agree to this?"

"I do, Your Majesty."

Kathlyn steepled her fingers, and gave Armadine a hard look. "Then let us see just how deep this rabbit hole goes."

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Chapter Two

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Queen Kathlyn leaned back in her throne, waving at Lord Armadine. "As you have brought the charges against Alia, and we are proceeding directly to arguments on the nature of her punishment, you may proceed with your case."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. If I may rise?"

"You may."

Armadine slowly pushed himself up from his chair, wincing as though the effort of simply standing brought him pain these days. He clutched his ribs a moment, and gave a little groan. He straightened, and slowly made his way to the floor before the Queen's throne. The slim cut of his light green silk jacket, the tightness of the cream colored shirt beneath, and very straight lines of his trousers made him look even more slender than usual. He almost looked almost frail. Alia scowled at what she suspected was a ploy to win sympathy from the Queen.

Poor, fragile Armadine, beaten to within an inch of his life by a woman. An Aran'alian woman at that. The thought made Alia smile for a moment but she quickly wiped the smirk from her lips. This was not the time to feel smug.

Alia quickly opened the small ledger provided for her, and reached for the quill sitting in an silver inkpot. She ran her fingers over the soft ruffles of the black feathery quill. Definitely one of Krek's feathers. Alia was starting to suspect Kathlyn must have pulled them from the gryphon by the handful. Grinning at that mental image, Alia scribbled down a few notes. She glanced at Armadine, watching him limp around in front of everyone as though she'd injured his legs. Granted, after she'd battered his nose, knocked out a few teeth, kicked his ribs in and kneed his balls, his legs might be about the only part of him she hadn't injured.

Unexpectedly Armadine turned towards Alia, and walked towards her table. He hesitated as he neared it, a quiver of fear running through his body. Alia scowled. He was pretty good at this. He took a breath as though steeling himself, and came forward to set a hand upon Alia's table.

"Miss Silverrain," Armadine said, his voice a silken growl. "Are you familiar with Lord Asterbury?"

Alia flinched before she could catch herself. She had not expected that question. Armadine had done his research. "I'm familiar with..."

Armadine cut her off, turning to the crowds with a flourish of his hand. "Some weeks before you so horrifically assaulted me, you assaulted Lord Asterbury did you not?"

"I defended myself from..."

"You attacked him in the very halls of this castle, much as you attacked me."

"I was defending myself from him!" Alia fought the urge to jump to her feet. Color rushed to her face, and anger flashed in her eyes. "He was..."

Armadine's words came faster and sharper than Alia's. "Defending yourself? Ah, in much the same way you claim to have been defending your dragon. Preemptively. You thought perhaps there was a chance Lord Asterbury and I might do something you might not like, and so you took it upon yourself to strike us down, just in case. That is not defense, Miss Silverrain, that is assault."

Alia rose to her feet despite her best intentions. Her voice rose just the same. "The man pressed me into a corner and forced his hands beneath my blouse!"

Armadine took a swift step back as though afraid she would strike him again. "Did he? One claim of defense is reasonable, but two within the span of several weeks? Two grievous assaults, both upon noblemen now in charge of the provinces your people once called home. This is beginning to sound less like self-defense Miss Silverrain, and more like an agenda. More like a pattern."

Alia balled up her fists and swallowed hard. Armadine was getting to her, but he'd also brought up something she had not considered. Lord Asterbury had been but a visiting noble, and in truth Alia had no idea which house he'd belonged to. She hadn't expected Armadine to dig so deeply, and she could not refute the fact it did look a little bad for her. But she had to get control of herself. She couldn't let this slithering worm get the best of her. He was manipulating her just as he was manipulating the crowd, and Alia refused to play that game any more than she had to.

"Lord Asterbury caught me in the hallway," Alia said, letting her voice rise with strength rather than anger. "He pressed me into an alcove. If you've seen him, you know Lord Asterbury is a large man, strong. I could hardly struggle against such a man, but I asked him several times to release me. He forced his hands beneath my blouse and..." Alia trailed off. A little trepidation crept into her voice, her words wavering. "He...touched me..." She glanced away, swallowing hard. "I did only what I had to do to get away. If you consider defending yourself from a lecherous man touching your privates to be assault, then you and I have very different definitions of the term, my Lord."

Alia lifted a hand to wipe at her eyes, and Armadine leveled his gray gaze at her. For a tiny moment, an almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the very corners of his mouth. Alia was better at this than he thought she'd be.

"Oh no, Miss Silverrain," Armadine said, slowly turning on his heel. He approached the Queen as if his words were meant only for Kathlyn. "If that is truly what happened then I agree, you did act in defense. A woman must be allowed to defend herself from unwanted advances. Anyone with morals would agree to this. And yet..." Armadine whirled back towards Alia, advancing upon her again, his hands clasped behind his back. "That isn't what really happened, was it."

Alia blinked. "Of course it was."

"I rather doubt that, Miss Silverrain. In fact..." He snapped his fingers, and held out his hand. The older man in the brown clothing rose from the table, carrying a leather-bound folder. He passed the folder to Armadine and returned to his seat. Armadine withdrew a document. "I have here a signed affidavit from Lord Asterbury himself describing what really happened."

"Armadine," Kathlyn said, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice. "Lord Asterbury is not the one pressing these charges. What bearing does this have?"

"Oh, it has great bearing, Your Majesty," Armadine replied, his voice like a wolf slowly closing in on crippled prey. "You see, I must establish that I am far from Alia Silverrain's first victim. I intend to show a pattern of violence and disregard for the laws of Illandra that have plagued her behavior for years. A corrupted, wicked nature at the very heart of her character that will speak leagues about the punishment she should suffer. You...do think it is important for me to paint the entire picture of the woman who so brazenly, and horrifically assaulted me, don't you Your Majesty?"

Kathlyn drummed her fingers against the arm of her throne. For a moment she let silence hang in the air like a pall. "Very well, Armadine. You may proceed, and then it shall be the accused turn to paint her picture of you."

Armadine gave a gracious bow. "Of course Your Majesty. I'm sure she is fully prepared to slander my good name."

"Careful, Armadine," Kathlyn said, jabbing a finger towards the folder in his hand. "Just proceed with your case."

Armadine gave a little bow of respect to the Queen. How he could not wait to be rid of her. He waved the document about with a flourish of his fingers. "This report, written and signed by Lord Asterbury himself..." He flicked his eyes to Alia a moment. "My cousin." Then he turned and held the document out towards the throne. Bownen fetched it and walked it up the stairs to the Queen as Armadine continued. "Details what really happened between himself and Miss Silverrain. A mere servant girl at the time."

"I've already told you what..."

"You led him on," Armadine said, jabbing his finger in the air like a knife pointed at Alia's chest. "You teased him, you flirted with him, you flustered him, and you pulled him into that alcove because he was a man of great importance and you were but a lowly serving girl. You wanted him. Perhaps you even wanted to blackmail him. After all he is a man of great wealth with a wife and family, and you...well, it wasn't all that long ago you were whoring yourself out on the streets for a few extra coppers, was it?"

"That is nothing but lies, Armadine!" Alia shot back to her feet.

"Lord Armadine," he snapped back at her, his feigned fear long gone. "And it is not a lie. You were a whore, were you not? Before you were plucked from the filth and mire of the streets, and given a good life here in the castle? And look how you repay your betters. With violence. You were a whore, weren't you Miss Silverrain?"

"That is none of your concern, and..."

"Oh but it is!" Armadine slapped the folder down on Alia's table. "After all, who's word is the Queen to take? The word of a well-respected noble, a man with a wife and a child whom he is devoted to? Or some street whore with a history of violence and problems with authority? Why don't you tell the court about the scars on your back, Miss Silverrain?"

Alia tensed up. The old scars on her back burned when they were mentioned. "Those have nothing to do with..."

"You were whipped when you were young, weren't you? More than once." Armadine slowly gazed around at all the gathered people watching him. He was starting to enjoy himself. "Why don't you tell us why you were whipped?"

"You already seem to know the answers, so why bother to ask me?"

"A fair question." Armadine tapped his folder. "According to the reports I've had compiled, you assaulted a number of guards who attempted to stop a group of you from stealing from a..."

"For my friends," Alia said suddenly.

Armadine blinked. "What was that?"

"For my friends," Alia repeated herself. "I was whipped for my friends. We were teenagers at best. Struggling to keep ourselves fed, our families could barely scrape together a few coins to feed their children. So my friends and I, we did what we had to just to put food in our bellies. We stole. Sometimes coin, sometimes food, but it always went to our families. And yes, when my body came in, I whored myself out. There were always men who didn't care how old I was. Some of them were nobles, I'm sure that's no surprise to you." Armadine went red, his back stiffening, but Alia did not let him interject. "When we were caught, the guards were going to whip us all if no one confessed. So I did. The first time it was easy, only a few lashes. The next time it was worse, because he struck my friend even when he promised to only punish the ringleader. So I struck him back. So they tied me up in the alley, and made my friends watch while they whipped me even worse." Alia grit her teeth, and slowly shook her head. "I don't have a problem with authority, Armadine. I have a problem with cruelty."

Armadine growled as Alia sought to turn his argument against him. He slowly picked up his folder, knuckles white against his skin. "The point is, Miss Silverrain. You have a long history of violating the law, of physically striking authority, and of using your body to get whatever you want. Therefore, we can only assume you used your body to lure in poor Lord Asterbury in an attempt to seduce him, perhaps for blackmail purpose."

"That is the is the most idiotic thing you've said yet, Armadine," Alia snapped, settling herself back into her chair. "I didn't even know who the man was, aside from some foppish noble forcing me into a corner to try and have his way with me."

"And why would a noble be interested in a girl like you?" Armadine passed the folder back to Traval, who exchanged it for another. "He has wealth, power, he could have any woman he wanted. And yet you claim he..."

"Armadine," Kathlyn suddenly spoke up. Her voice was like an iron vice around the noble's throat, silencing him in an instant. "We've heard enough about Asterbury and Alia's alleged past. If Asterbury's story was true, I can only assume he would have brought his own charges before me. Therefore, given the fact that the man remained utterly silence until you seemingly contacted him to obtain this document, I must assume Alia to be telling the truth. Yes, Asterbury has a wife, but I think half the people gathered here today know that neither Lord Asterbury nor his wife have been faithful to each other for years. It is also well known that Asterbury has a weakness for wine that causes him to get carried away." She passed the document she'd been reading back to Bownen. "Consider this noted. Now. Have you anything more relevant to Alia's sentence or do you intend to simply drag her through the muck a little more for your own amusement?"

Armadine took a slow breath and held it. His body tensed, trembling with barely restrained anger. Damn that royal bitch. She was making it increasingly difficult for him to properly humiliate the woman who'd dared raise her hand to him. At this rate, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands after all. Perhaps that would be for the best. That way he could ensure Alia's punishment was as fitting as he wished it to be. Besides, with any luck he'd soon be rid of the Queen. Still, he wasn't done with Alia yet. Perhaps he could still make the old hag on the throne see reason. And if nothing else, the prince was in the audience, and he wanted his friend to hear what he had left to say.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Armadine said, bowing stiffly at the waist. "My apologies for getting side-tracked. I do have something far more relevant. It concerns the manner in which she has been conducting herself as Warden of The Dragon. And I think after hearing what I have to say, Your Majesty and those in attendance shall agree the most fitting sentence would be removing her from that position."

"I think such a sentence would greatly exceed the crime," replied the Queen, leveling her unreadable gaze at the nobleman.

"We shall see, Your Majesty." Armadine began to thumb through the second folder Traval had brought him. "I believe she has proven herself to be profoundly unfit to serve as Warden for The Dragon. I have numerous reports of sickening behavior conducted with The Dragon in private, and a witness ready to testify to their veracity."

Alia's breath caught. Her heart began to accelerate, thumping harder. Armadine couldn't know...could he? She thought they'd been careful. No one had known but those they allowed to know. Then again...would it matter? The Queen herself already knew, after all. And Armadine might not have known about Kathlyn and Krek. Alia took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Let him talk, then. She wasn't going to let him intimidate her, and she was tired of letting him run this show.

"To what manner of sickening behavior are you referring?" Alia spoke up, waving at Armadine. "You cannot be referring to my spotless record as The Dragon's Warden, nor can you be referring to the fact that for the first time since his capture The Dragon is on record as being completely passive and docile. Unless of course you consider doing my job better than any previous warden to be somehow sickening."

Armadine twisted back around towards Alia, lifting his voice to ensure that everyone heard it. "I am referring to the fact that you've become the dragon's whore. Or is it the other way around?"

"I have become no such thing, Armadine." Alia folded her arms beneath her breasts as if tired of Armadine's antics. "What else have you got?"

"Proof," Armadine hissed at her. "Witness accounts that you, Miss Silverrain, have engaged repeatedly in sexual acts with this dragon for nearly the entire time you have been the beast's warden." All around the court there were murmurs of discontent, sounds of disgust. Armadine paused a moment to let his words settle in, and then went on. "You have been witnessed grasping the dragon by the horns, and forcing him to..." Armadine made a face as though the very words themselves held a bitter, revolting taste. "...Pleasure you."

That was it then. Armadine's big play. It seemed he hoped to surprise Kathlyn with that knowledge, or perhaps just to sway the gathered nobles so completely against Alia that the Queen would feel obligated to remove Alia from the Warden's Office entirely on the basis that she was somehow forcing herself on her prisoner. Alia knew in that instant she had two choices. She could deny it, and let Armadine parade his witnesses and slander her name up and down the courts. Or, she could tell the truth. Either way the knowledge was going to be out there now, and she was going to have to deal with it.

Alia would not let Armadine dictate this any longer. Alia chose the truth.

"There is no force involved, Armadine." Alia tilted her head, watching him as coolly as she could.

Armadine stuttered a little. "W...what?"

"I don't force the dragon to do anything."

"So...you are admitting that you do in fact, have some sort of twisted sexual congress with this monstrous beast!"

"The dragon and I have become lovers, yes," Alia admitted, lifting her hand as if to silence the sudden outcry from many of those gathered. "But the dragon is no beast. He is a reasoning, thinking, speaking being just like you and I. If I were to have forced myself on him in some way, taken advantage of my position as his warden, yes, I would be the first to tell you that I should be immediately removed from office. Yet I assure you no such thing has taken place. Every act we have shared has been consensual."

Armadine glanced at Traval, who simply shrugged. One thing they had not expected was for Alia to simply admit to it, and attempt to explain it away as consensual. He grasped for retaliation, and found only insults. "You see? She is little more than a whore! Using her prisoner for her own pleasure. Using a monster for her satisfaction, it is disgusting! She is disgusting! Surely, she cannot be allowed to continue serving as this monster's warden when..."

"And why not?" Alia called out, leaning back in her chair with every bit of confidence she could muster. Let Armadine flounder. Let him insult her. Let him seem the petty one.

"Yes, Armadine," Kathlyn asked as well, leaning forward. "Why not?"

"Because..." Armadine threw his folder down against his table in frustration. "It is sickening to think of what they do!"

"Then do not think of it," Kathlyn snapped at him. "It is becoming increasingly clear to me that you are more interested in dragging Alia through as much fetid muck as you can find than you are in actually advocating for a punishment befitting the crime. Armadine, if you have arranged this trial and brought these charges against her simply because you've found out some little secret that doesn't sit well in your belly I shall be extremely cross."

"She should be thrown in a cell of her own!" Armadine snarled. "She's admitted before Queen and Court that she's having sex with animals, with monsters! That is against Illandran law and against Illandran morals! That is the sort of behavior they were known for in Aran'alia, before we brought them civility! That was the sort of thing they did to make their monsters fight on their behalf, was it not?"

"Armadine, sit down." Kathlyn's dark blue eyes flashed with growing anger.

"Your Majesty..."

"Sit down, or my guards will sit you down," Kathlyn growled. Several of the guards moved towards Armadine, who begrudgingly took his seat. Kathlyn eased back a little bit. "I will have no more of this slander, Armadine. You are making a mockery of my court with your personal vendettas. I sought to give you a chance to present your case and explain how you were undeservingly assaulted. Instead you have descended into insults and attempts to humiliate this woman that are totally unrelated to your claim. Whether or not she has had sex with this dragon has nothing to do with the fact she assaulted you, aside from perhaps strengthening her case."

"Her case?" Armadine nearly shouted, throwing his arms up in his chair. Traval put a hand on his shoulder to urge him to calm himself. "How on earth does that strengthen HER case?"

Kathlyn held a hand palm up as if offering it to Alia. "She claimed she and the dragon are in fact, lovers. Would anyone in this court not do anything in their power to protect their lover?" Kathlyn slowly peered around the room, meeting any set of eyes willing to match her gaze. "Set aside your personal feelings a moment, and consider that. Inappropriate as such a relationship may be, who could truly blame her for using force to defend her lover from torment? Any man or woman here who claims they would not do the same to protect their own lover is either a liar or a coward."

Kathlyn let that settle over the crowd. Some of them murmured to each other. Some of the nobles and others in attendance were nodding their heads in agreement. Others seemed unable to get over the very idea of a dragon and a woman becoming lovers. Kathlyn let the crowd digest things for a moment while Armadine fumed and Alia scribbled notes. When the burbling voices died off a little, Kathlyn held up her hand. The guards clapped their spears against the floor, and the sound silenced the Grand Hall.

"Let me be clear about one thing. Alia is not here to be charged with sexual crimes. She is not here because of anything she has done with this dragon. Nor would such a trial ever take place." Kathlyn made a sweeping arc with her arm, the golden sleeves of her dress swishing. "This is Illandra. It is a free land. There are no laws in Illandra against consensual sex of any sort. Yes, it may turn the bellies of some to think of a man with a man, or even a woman with a Koraa'gi. But would we toss a woman in jail for spending a night in a Koraa'gi's bed? Certainly not. They both speak, they both reason, they both consented. This dragon we keep in our dungeon. Yes, he is a prisoner, and no, it is not entirely appropriate for his warden to have a relationship with him. But neither is it against any law, and so long as it keeps him from causing my kingdom trouble, then so be it."

A little smile flickered across Kathlyn's lips. She let the audience consider that a moment, and then lifted a hand to shift the crown upon her head. Blasted thing was giving her a stiff neck. "Speaking of which, I believe it is time to let Alia Silverrain speak in her defense."

Armadine immediately protested. "I have no even gotten to speak of my injuries yet! Or how the assault was completely unprovoked!"

"Perhaps you should have started your case with that, instead," Kathlyn said. "I think I have given you more leeway than I should have already. But, pass the doctor's records here, I shall read them on your behalf." Kathlyn waited for Bownen to fetch the report, and then began to read from it. "Lord Armadine suffered the following injuries. Broken nose, resulting in permanent deformity of the structure. Split lips requiring multiple stitches. Several broken teeth requiring removal, another tooth lost in the assault. Bruising along ribcage and stomach." She glanced up at Armadine. "Does that about cover it?"

"More or less," the man muttered, sounding more and more like a petulant child who'd just had his favorite toy taken away.

"Oh," Kathlyn said, passing the report back to Bownen. "I almost left out bruised genitals. That sounds unpleasant."

Alia did what she could to hide her smirk. Armadine was just lucky she didn't take that whip and use it against him instead.

"Alia Silverrain," Kathlyn said. "You may rise and present a defense for your actions. As you claimed to be both retaliating for, and defending your prisoner against further violence, I should like to hear exactly how he was injured, and how grievous his injuries were."

"Certainly Your Majesty."

Armadine slapped his hand against the table. "It is already known that the dragon attacked me, and I defended myself against him. I see little reason to allow Alia to attempt to slander me..."

"And I saw little reason to allow you to slander her, and yet I did," the Queen snapped. "So now it is her turn to speak, and you shall sit there with your mouth shut or I shall have you gagged, Armadine." She beckoned Alia forward. "Alia, if you please."

Alia bowed her head, and took a deep breath. She steadied her heart and body, and rose to her feet. Now was the time they'd waited for. To tell everyone gathered here just what sort of monster Armadine really was. To show everyone how well spoken an Aran'alian could be. To prove to everyone what an exceptional job she'd done from the very first day. Just as Kathlyn wanted.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alia said. "As I said before, I do not deny inflicting those injuries upon Lord Armadine. However, I did not do so with malice nor cruel intent. I did so only with the knowledge that Lord Armadine had already extensively tortured The Prisoner which I am responsible for. As well as the knowledge that Lord Armadine had returned solely to inflict more agony upon an already wounded creature."

"I was defending myself," Armadine hissed.

"Lord Armadine," Alia said, walking towards the table where he and Traval sat. She kept her voice level, her words polite and respectful. "I have weathered your many insults, and your many degradations, and I have done so with little complaint. You have had your turn to speak, and now I should like to have mine as Illandran law allows. Surely this is acceptable to you, given how you have repeatedly cited said law."

Armadine dragged his nails against his golden breeches, gritting his teeth. When everyone seemed to wait for him to reply, he finally growled through his teeth. "Of course, Miss Silverrain. My apologies."

"Thank you, Lord Armadine," Alia said, offering him a little bow. "Your apologies are accepted. Now, with that in mind, I can assure this court that Lord Armadine did not act in self defense. In fact I have witness testimony of my own to refer to." Alia turned towards Kathlyn. "If it pleases Your Majesty, I should like to call Guard Captain Enric to speak on my behalf."

Kathlyn nodded. "Summon Guard Captain Enric."

Alia kept her satisfaction hidden when the request sent Armadine and Traval into hushed whispers. Enric rose from his place in the seats, and made his way forward. Bownen fetched him a chair and set it between the two tables. Enric gave the Queen a bow, and then settled himself into the chair, nodding to Alia. Alia nodded back to him and got right to the point.

"Guard Captain Enric, please explain your duties at the time the dragon was injured."

Enric licked his lips a moment, folding his arms over his expansive chest. "My duties consisted of serving as the head of the guard force responsible for maintaining the security of the entrance to the Dragon's dungeon. I was also responsible for keeping tabs on you, Miss Silverrain. I was to report your successes and failures as Warden directly to the Queen. I was also responsible for the security of the Prisoner. By which I mean to ensure that not only did he not harm anyone, but he himself was not harmed. A job which I am sad to say I failed that day."

"Failed?" Alia tilted her head as though she did not know what he was talking about. "Please explain, Enric. We'll return to your other duties shortly."

"You had gone into town," Enric began. He shifted a little, rubbing his arm. "Lord Armadine came to the check point before the stairs leading to The Dragon. He was with a woman he fancied, and a whole group of his bodyguards."

"Were his bodyguards armed?"

"Yeah, but there was nothing unusual about that. Swords, knives, that sort of thing. Armadine of course had his whip. We've all seen him strutting around with that horrible thing. They demanded to be allowed to see The Dragon. Armadine wanted to show off for his woman, acting brave around a dragon. Wasn't the first time some idiot noble asked to go down there. Some of the previous Wardens told us to just run the nobles down there, let them have a look at the dragon, and take them back up the stairs. The dragon usually ignored them, and we were always there to prevent any trouble. You hadn't yet issued your orders to prevent such visits and I assumed, erroneously so, that Lord Armadine and his friends were just going to take a look at the dragon and come back up."

"But they did not, did they."

"No, Ma'am." Enric set his jaw, casting Armadine a dark look. "They did not."

"Why did you let them down there in the first place?" Alia's question was as much for her own benefit as for that of the court.

"He's a noble," Enric said soft, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. He sighed under his breath, glancing down at his own hands. "He threw his rank around, told me I had to let him go down there. Brought up his friendship with the prince a few times. I believe he asked me if I'd rather let him see the dragon, or find myself guarding the shithouse by morning." Enric hesitated, grinding his teeth. "I still shouldn't have let him go."

"It's alright, Enric," Alia said, squeezing his shoulder. "You had no way of knowing they planned to torture the dragon."

Enric glanced over at Armadine again. "I should have known though, when he refused my attempt to accompany them. Told me his bodyguards would handle it, and that I should remain in my position."

Alia nodded, clapped Enric on the shoulder, and smiled to him a moment. "So you let them all into the Dungeon. And what did they do down there?"

Enric's voice was soft, yet pierced the air like an arrow. "They tortured The Prisoner for their own sick amusement."

Alia winced. She knew it was true, but she still didn't like hearing it. Armadine opened his mouth to protest, starting to rise from his chair, but Alia cut him off. "We have already heard Lord Armadine's claim that he was defending himself somehow. How do you know he is not telling the truth?"

"Because I conducted an investigation. First and foremost there was the grievous and unnecessarily painful nature of the dragon's wounds. As well as location of them upon his body, and the location of the blood splatters throughout the cell and the bottom of the stairwell. It was quite obvious that they had only the creature's pain in mind. I had deduced as much even before I was able to convince the dragon to give a truthful account of his abuse."

"And who are you to discern such things?" Armadine spat, waving his hand in the air. Traval put a hand on Armadine to caution him, but the noble continued anyway. "Just because you command a few guards here and there hardly makes you fit to conduct such investigations and make such pronouncements."

Enric twisted in his chair to glance back at the Queen. Kathlyn gave a subtle nod, permission for him to divulge a secret or two. "Actually, Armadine," Enric said, purposefully leaving off the man's title as he settled back down. "I am officially quite qualified. In my younger days I spent quite a few years heading up a team for Her Majesty's Investigative Service. Investigating crimes the public didn't need to know about, chasing spies, gathering intelligence and evidence. That sort of thing." Enric jerked his thumb towards the older man in the brown clothing at Armadine's side. "Much like your man Traval there, I trafficked in information as much as steel. I know how to get someone to tell the truth, and I know when someone is lying."

Armadine cursed under his breath. He was starting to feel as though this whole trial was a set up. Damn it, he was supposed to be the one setting people up. He balled his fists up at his sides. Traval squeezed his shoulder, a signal for him to remain silent. They'd take care of things later.

"So, you conducted an official investigation," Alia said, doing all she could to keep the smugness out of her voice. "And what did you determine?"

"That Lord Armadine and his cronies set an ambush for the dragon. Even if the dragon had refused to tell me what happened, it was clear to me that Armadine was lying about defending himself."

Alia walked to her table, picking up one of the folders. "How were you able to determine that?"

"By the nature of the dragon's injuries." Enric rose to his feet, and turned towards the Queen as he began to point out places on his body. He made sure the rest of the court could see it as well. "He was sliced open by swords here, and here..." Enric ran his fingers across his neck and shoulders as though they were knives dragged along his skin. "And here...and here. There was no reasoning for such wounds beyond the fact they simply wanted to see the dragon bleed. And that was not the worst of his injuries, either."

As Enric spoke, Alia pulled sketches from the folder. She'd had them done with Valyrym's permission and Enric's assistance. They were sketches of the dragon as she remembered him, bleeding everywhere, his body laid open, his nose split apart. One sketch simply showed the dragon's wounded body, another depicted him with his head and neck through the door, being hit by sword and whip.

Alia brought some of the sketches to Bownen to pass them to the Queen, then offered a few more to the guards to look over, before having them passed around the crowd. She'd paid very talented artists to draw up enough copies to pass around. "How did they accomplish this without the dragon fighting back?"

"Armadine went in alone, and worked the dragon into a fury. Made sure the dragon would want to make a point by chasing Armadine back out. The dragon's not a fool. He knew he couldn't actually harm Armadine without catching flaming hell for it. But he wanted to put a scare into him. So he chased him all the way back to the exit of the prison. What the dragon didn't know was that was Armadine's plan. There's a large set of double doors there with plenty of room on either side of them for people to lay in ambush. The dragon could fit his head and neck and part of his front legs through, but that's it. As soon as he pushed his head through, they attacked him. They cut him up everywhere they could reach him, just to make him bleed. They were already out of his range, they could have just gone back up the stairs. Instead, they laid into him with sword and knife..." Enric glared at Armadine. "And whip."

"Much like this drawing?" Alia held up the copy of the image depicting Valyrym's torture. In it, Armadine's whip was splitting the dragon's nose apart. The pain carefully rendered on Valyrym's face made Alia's throat clench. Blood sprayed from the wound, while other men were lashing blades against his neck and legs. "This sketch was commissioned to go alongside the report Enric filed to Your Majesty about the dragon's wounds. Is that correct, Enric?"

Enric nodded. "Yes, and the drawing appears to be very accurate."

"He was not wounded that badly," Armadine muttered despite Traval's attempts to keep him silent.

"Was he not?" Alia snapped, whirling on her heel. She strode towards Armadine and slammed the sketch down upon the table. "You nearly split his whole muzzle open! Do you deny that?"

"The beast had to learn his place!" Armadine folded his arms, glaring up at Alia. As did the Silverrain bitch. But that would come in time. "Regardless of what you may think, the monster chased me. I was certain he meant to devour me, and I was well within my rights to stop him."

"You were already at the stairs, he could not have harmed you then even if he wished it!" Alia jabbed a finger at Armadine's face. How she wished she could strike that smugness out of him once again. "Do you have any idea how much blood he lost? I had to sew his whole nose back together."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating," Armadine snorted. "Though, I'm also sure an Aran'alian servant girl has the sewing expertise to do a fine job with a dragon's nose."

"Exaggerating," Alia murmured, straightening up. She half wondered if Armadine was hoping to get her to slap him in front of everyone just so he could cry out about her history of violence again. "When I returned home that day, I followed a trail of blood that led across the entire prison. There were pools of it everywhere. Enric, how much blood did the dragon lose?"

"A lot," Enric said, his eyes fixed on Armadine. He'd like to wring that little brat's neck himself. "It splattered the walls where he was ambushed, and it coated the floor all across his prison. I do not know how much blood a dragon has to lose but he cannot have had much left."

Alia took a few steps away, turning around to face the Queen again. She trembled a little. Her heart fluttered at the memory of that terrible night. Her throat clenched, and she fought to do what she could to keep her voice from wavering too much. "When I found the dragon that night, when I followed that trail of blood. He was curled in the little corner of his prison where he sleeps, with an old blanket clutched to his nose. The blanket was red, and wet, and it was not the first which he had soaked. He was desperate to stop the flow, and yet he could not. And he was..." Alia blinked away a few tears, and took a deep breath. "He was crying, though he tried to hide it from me. From the humiliation as much as the pain. Because whatever he might have done in the past, he knew he'd done nothing to deserve that. The dragon did not deserve to be some cruel noble's plaything, made to bleed and scream just for being a dragon. And yet that is exactly what happened."

"I concur," Enric said softly.

"Your Majesty," Alia said, letting her emerald gaze meet the Queen's deep blue eyes. "You were brave enough recently to pay a visit to the dragon yourself. With your permission, may I question you about your visit, for the official record?"

Kathlyn gave a little nod, her own voice still steely and even despite the turmoil that roiled around inside her heart. "You may, Alia Silverrain."

"Did you see the dragon's recent scars?"

"I did."

Alia turned towards Armadine, anger and hatred pouring from her eyes like boiling flames. If only they could consume that wretched man. "Would Your Majesty please describe them?"

Kathlyn set her jaw, her eyes narrowed. "They are wretched looking things that speak of torture, not punishment. And they certainly do not speak of defense. The scar upon the dragon's nose in particular. To this day it is angry and pink, and it looks as though the beast's nostrils remain held together by a thin margin of scar tissue and little more. It is a cruel wound that surely caused unendurable pain."

Alia nodded in agreement, wringing her hands together a little. "Did Your Majesty find the dragon to be at all aggressive? Threatening?"

Kathlyn shook her head, and answered honestly. "Only in a defensive manner. My guards frightened him, and I cannot blame the beast for that. For longer than I have been Queen, he has known only punishment and torment from those that bring weapons into his prison. In truth, I found the old creature quite pitiable." Kathlyn's regal veneer fell away for a moment as she gazed around the room. Her deep blue eyes shone like sapphire stars, though the pained sympathy that burned in them lasted only moments before her unreadable royal mask returned. "He seems little more than a lonely, sorrowful old man locked in the armor of a dragon. The powerful, dangerous beast he once was has withered away like an old soldier left to plead for scraps in some alley. Though I daresay Alia Silverrain's warden-ship has no doubt helped his health immensely. Whatever he is...he does not deserve torture."

Alia gave a slow nod, a few more tears brimming in her own eyes. She hadn't known how exactly how Kathlyn saw the dragon until now. "Enric...Enric earlier mentioned other duties. One of those duties is keeping tabs on the dragon's behavior, correct?"

Kathlyn nodded. A smirk crossed her lips for a moment. "That is correct. And I also have him keeping tabs on you."

Alia smiled at the Queen, gesturing with a hand towards the crowd. "And would you care to make those reports public?"

"Certainly." The Queen's voice was sharp, holding only the faintest hint of smugness. "Since you took the Warden's office, Alia, every single report I have gotten has indicated that the dragon has shown no signs of aggression nor hostility. Nor has he caused any sort of trouble for anyone. In fact, reports indicate that this is the most docile, placid, and well behaved The Prisoner has been since the moment of his capture. When Enric gave me his report upon the dragon's injuries, it was highlighted in that report that he saw very little possibility that the dragon had attacked anyone, least of all Lord Armadine. Would you also care to know how these reports reflect upon you, Alia Silverrain?"

Alia knew the answer already, and she was happy to have a chance to make that knowledge public. She gave a little bow, and smiled. "If it pleases Your Majesty, I should be happy to hear it. Especially if it has bearing upon the sentence Your Majesty may pass upon me."

"It does," the Queen said with a little chuckle. She waggled her fingers, sending Bownen scurrying to pick up a small stack of reports from Alia's table. While she waited, Kathlyn rubbed the back of her neck, tilting her head back and forth a little. Stupid crown always gave her a stiff neck. When Bownen returned, she took the papers from him. "Thank you, Bownen."

"Those are the reports reflecting my job performance, are they not?" Alia scanned the crowd a moment, wanting to make sure everyone knew what the Queen was reading from.

"They are," Kathlyn confirmed. "For the sake of brevity I shall simply read a few of the phrases and passages I've already highlighted for my own records. It says here that from day one, you have demonstrated an exceptional amount of courage, bravery and kindness, shown The Prisoner nothing but respectful and fair treatment, engaged him creatively in order to earn his admittedly grudging respect, and that you have demonstrated a truly remarkable ability to soothe, guide and control The Prisoner whenever necessary." Kathlyn tapped the parchment against her palm. "It goes on to say that never before has The Prisoner been this peaceful or easy to deal with, and never before has he gone so long without one single reported incident of any kind." She flicked her eyes to Armadine. "His own abuse not withstanding."

Alia smiled to herself. "And if I may ask, Your Majesty. What conclusion does that lead you to?"

The Queen gave a little snort of amusement. If she was in Alia's place, she'd have asked the same thing. Well, might as well pay the girl her compliment where it was due. "That you are quite simply the greatest and most competent Dragon's Warden we have ever had." She sat up a little straighter in her throne, giving that a moment to sink in. That surprised even Alia, and brought flush to her olive toned cheeks. The Queen slowly gazed from one side of the Grand Hall to the other, meeting any set of eyes that dared accept her gaze. "That is the most important thing to remember. Regardless of what Alia Silverrain and the dragon do consensually in private, and regardless of how distasteful you may find that, she was given this position because it was believed she would perform spectacularly. And she has. She has accomplished what no other Warden ever could. She has, for all intents and purposes, effectively tamed the Dragon. I daresay she's damn near rehabilitated the old beast. Beyond even that, she has shown an ability to balance the budget she is granted with the needs of her office in ways many of the previous Wardens never quite grasped. Despite the fact Alia herself has hired assistants of her own, she has actually managed to cut the budget needed to house and feed The Prisoner by noticeable increments. In short, she's not only made the dragon a safer prisoner, but she's made him a cheaper prisoner. She is, and this bears repeating, the best Warden we have ever had."

Alia tried to turn away from everyone to hide the fact she was beaming with both pride and embarrassment. She wasn't sure she'd ever had so much praise heaped upon her before. From the way the crowds behind her were murmuring, it seemed as though the compliments were taking a lot of the nobles and wealthy families by surprise. Perhaps they hadn't realized just how good a job she was actually doing. Then again, why would they have known? Alia herself hadn't realized how well she'd worked her budget either. She'd just stubbornly negotiated with all the various butchers and other providers of food and supplies until they were willing to cut her a better deal. When they weren't willing to renegotiate their prices she found someone who would. It seemed like common sense to her, knowledge and experience gleaned from a lifetime of stealing food and saving every coin. At times she'd even used her own pay to secure what she needed or help pay her assistant's wages.

Finally, Alia managed to collect herself. She gave a deep bow to the Queen. "Thank you for your gracious words, Your Majesty. I am simply doing the best job I can."

"You certainly are, Alia Silverrain," The Queen said. "As are all your friends and assistants, according to my other reports." She thumbed through a few papers, then scanned a heavily inscribed section of parchment, grinning. "I have one here from Servant Master Kesh, lamenting the fact that you hired away two of his hardest working staff members, yet at the same time recognizing that they would surely do an exceptional job for you. Another report here from Enric, and others from further sources all indicating that the group of Aran'alians and...an Urd'thin..." The Queen smirked to herself, ignoring the sounds of distaste from the crowd. She lifted her voice above them. "...Are in fact working harder and accomplishing far more than any number of previous Illandran Wardens and workers ever did. Well done, Alia."

Alia smiled and bowed a second time. She was more than happy to give the Queen a chance to start proving her point to those who would otherwise stand in her way. Let them see that the Aran'alians were capable and hard working. Let them see they could lead. Though Alia continued to face the Queen rather than the crowd, from the whispered voices and muttered words behind her, it sounded as though they were rather evenly divided. Half of them seemed shocked that Aran'alians could accomplish such things. In some cases they seemed in open disbelief. Yet the other half of them seemed glad to hear it, or pleasantly surprised. That was good. Perhaps the Queen had more backing than she realized.

"Thank you again, Your Majesty." Alia straightened up and cleared her throat. "If I may ask, how does this reflect upon my assertion that when I struck down Lord Armadine, I was in fact doing so in defense of The Prisoner?"

"I should think it strongly supports that assertion," The Queen said sharply. "Given that the reports indicate you believe that regardless of a prisoner's crime, once he is in fact, a prisoner, his well being is the responsibility of his Warden and those in charge of him."

"Absolutely." Alia slowly turned towards Armadine, staring him down. The noble tossed his head, folding his arms over his chest. "It was clear to me he had come to assault the dragon again, and I had to stop him. Admittedly I went too far, but the dragon's wounds were still fresh, and so was my anger. I struck him first in defense of the dragon. Then, when he drew his whip, I feared he might strike me with it before he went to strike the dragon. So I put him down to protect the both of us. Captain Enric was witness to the event."

"And what did you see, Captain Enric?" The Queen leaned forward in her chair, listening intently.

"Just as Alia says it was." Enric nodded, stroking his chin a moment. "I'd been watching Lord Armadine for a little while actually. He was stalking the end of the hall, peering around the corner. He was alone this time, but it seemed clear to me he was looking to get another chance to hurt the dragon."

"And what made that so clear?" The Queen tilted her head, pushing her crown up when it began to slide just a little.

"Because every time he saw me, he vanished. Then a little while later, he'd show up again, skulking around until he spotted me. Then he was gone again." Enric smirked, cracking his knuckes. "If he'd come much closer I probably woulda broken his nose before Alia did. Noble or not, I got no use for people who take pleasure in tormenting a helpless creature."

"He was hardly a helpless..." Armadine began before Traval squeezed his arm tightly enough to make the noble wince.

Armadine glared at his bodyguard and advisor, rubbing his arm. But he went silent. Traval was right. They may as well just let everything play out now. After a moment Armadine settled back in his chair. His gambit had blown up in his face. That was alright, though. He had another plan in mind for Alia Silverrain. And as long as things went as expected, it would not be long before he had the ear of the new King, anyway.

When Armadine did not continue, Enric did. "Alia came up the stairs, and when I pointed out Armadine, she went to confront him. Next thing I know, he was trying to draw his whip and she was punching him in the nose. Not really sure which happened first." It was a distortion Enric was happy to make on Alia's behalf. "But he did draw his whip, and he was gonna use it on her. In my estimation, Alia was acting on behalf of the defense of her prisoner, and herself." Enric turned in his chair to glance up at the Queen. "Let's not delude ourselves, Your Majesty. What Alia did was illegal by the letter of the law, but no less deserved. It's no secret that Armadine's known for cruelty. If Your Majesty wishes, I have evidence to submit."

"Evidence?" The Queen perked her brow. "What manner of evidence?"

"When Lord Armadine drew his whip, Alia cut it apart with her knife." Enric beckoned to Bownen to fetch the evidence he had set aside. "I took a piece of it to serve as evidence of his assault on the dragon." When Armadine stuttered under his breath, Enric smirked at him. "What, you didn't think I took that as a trophy, did you? I told you, I spent years in Intelligence Gathering. I know evidence when I see it."

Bownen brought over a small wooden box, and passed it to Enric. Enric thanked him and took the box. He stood up, and held the box with one hand, opening it with the other. Then he reached inside and withdrew the end of the long braided leather whip. Woven into it were wicked looking jagged metal shards. Enric held it up so that everyone could get a look at it, then handed it to Bownen to present to the Queen. The servant quickly ascended the stairs and passed it to her.

As Kathlyn looked the thing over, her face twisting in disgust, Enric explained it. "As you can see, Your Majesty, the whip has sharp metal fragments woven directly into it. Now, your normal whip is more than enough to cut flesh, and even break bone if used correctly. As for why anyone would then put metal into a whip, well...Pain. Cruelty. To leave a far worse wound. Or..." Enric folded his arms behind his back, turning towards the crowd again. "In battle with an armored foe. Or say, a creature with natural armor all across its body. As you know, Lord Armadine's lineage rules over the Twenty Fourth province. That is, the land once known as Aran'alia. The same land where The Prisoner once lived, before his capture. Lord Armadine makes frequent visits to the Twenty Fourth province, and is in fact in control of quite a few business holdings out there. He also controls much of his family fortune, as well as...other elements."

Kathlyn handed the whip back to Bownen. "Take that to the audience, and have it passed around. I should very much like everyone to see just what manner of implement Lord Armadine enjoys using to strike someone held in captivity. Make sure my son sees it, as well." She glanced at the Prince, who stared back at her a moment and then looked away as if unsure if he was more ashamed of his friend's behavior, or his mother's attempts to get him to acknowledge it. Then Kathlyn leaned back in her chair. "Go on, Enric. You were saying?"

Enric gave a stiff nod. "Simply that there are still a few dragons in the Twenty Fourth province, as well as the Twenty Third, Twenty Second, Twenty Fifth, and so on. Hell, we've seen them closer than that in recent years. The point is, in the Twenty Fourth province they make that sort of whip specifically for dragons. Now, it may well have been years since they've actually caught one, but we know they still harass our trade and supply caravans from time to time. Armadine has whips like that because they are designed specifically to inflict injury upon a dragon. I suspect Armadine bought it for himself, or perhaps got it as a gift, and wanted to try it out on a real, live dragon. It's only a theory..." By now, the whip was being passed around amongst those in the audience. Even those who were clearly disgusted by Alia's behavior with Valyrym could not help making faces as they got a first hand look at the wicked implement used to torture the beast. "But I shall leave it to you to decide what kind of man would use such a thing on a creature not in battle, and not in punishment. But simply for sport."

Enric settled back in his chair and folded his arms.

Abruptly, Armadine spoke up. "Are we about done here? I feel as though I've been beaten enough in this ambush as it is."

Traval heaved a sigh, but Armadine ignored it.

"Ambush?" Kathlyn turned her attention towards Lord Armadine. "My dear Nobleman, it was you who called for this trial in the first place. It was you who asked that Alia be called before this court to answer for her assault upon you. And it was you who came with stacks of documents and witnesses ready to be called to testify to the nature of her relationship with the dragon. Witnesses who had no bearing on the actual crime itself, and served only as means to humiliate a woman who has done nothing more than her very job to the best of her ability. If anyone was ambushed, I believe it was Alia Silverrain. You cannot expect to call her here simply to besmirch her in front of everyone, and then express disbelief when she uses your own tactics against you."

"Are you going to punish her or not?" Armadine slapped his hand upon the table, rattling the stacks of papers. "The law is very clear. Regardless of what you think of me, Your Majesty..." Armadine spat the title out like a mouthful of rotten food. "The law says she has committed a serious crime. And surely, while you may not hold my title in high regard, you do hold the laws of your kingdom in such? Do you not? Or will you use your authority to disregard those laws much as you disregard the disgusting things Alia does with this dragon?" Armadine glared at the Queen, slowly easing back into his chair. "Perhaps because of your own...shall we say, affections for a certain beast with black feathers?"

Kathlyn's face twitched slightly yet she otherwise showed no reaction to the accusations. "You're striding dangerous ground, Armadine."

"My apologies, Your Majesty. I'm sure that your haste in sweeping Alia's carnal desires for this beast has nothing to do with your winged assassin. Now, about the Laws of Illandra. Will they be upheld or not?"

The Queen might not be in a position to show any real emotion, but Alia could not help balling up her fists on the Queen's behalf. It took everything she had not to walk over and punch Armadine right in his broken nose a few more times. He had no right to insinuate such things about the Queen, let alone in front of everyone. Still, Alia knew the Queen was taking the right path. Given the discontented way half the crowd was murmuring, it seemed quite a few of them thought Armadine had overstepped his boundaries as well. It also sounded as though most of them felt his accusations were baseless. Which would have made Alia smile if she weren't so angry at the noble. To think, of all the people in the Kingdom, she and Valyrym actually knew more about the Queen and her gryphon friend than almost anyone.

"Of course they will be upheld, Armadine," the Queen said, her voice a cold steel blade that threatened to cut both Armadine and Alia too deeply in her hidden anger. "But I would advise you to watch your words and where you step very carefully from here on out. Alia Silverrain."

The sharpness of the Queen's voice yanked Alia from her thoughts. She twisted upon her heel to stand at attention before the Queen. "Your Majesty."

"Let me state first that I think you were in the right for defending your Prisoner. Let me also state..." The Queen spoke through grit teeth for a moment, glaring at Armadine. "That under no circumstances did your dragon deserve what befell him." Then she turned her attention back to Alia, and gave a little sigh. "But the law is clear, and as you have admitted to the act all along, I must issue punishment against you for assaulting a nobleman."

Alia gave a small nod. "I understand, Your Majesty. I will accept whatever punishment you feel is just."

"Under the circumstances..." The Queen pursed her lips, looking around the room a moment. "A punishment I feel is just is hardly feasible. Under normal circumstances, the law might call from you to be permanently removed from your position, and jailed for a period of several months."

Alia tensed up. She would accept time in the dungeon, but being permanently removed from the position was...

The Queen did not give her time to think about it. "Yet given your spotless record, removing you from the position of Warden would be far more detriment than benefit. And given the circumstances surrounding your crime, I do not feel your deserve a single moment in a cell. Therefore I feel compelled to make a compromise between what is called for by law, and what I feel in my heart. It seems the fairest thing I can do in terms of balancing existing laws, and issuing fair judgment." Kathlyn rubbed her forehead, sighing to herself. She did not want to do this, yet she had little choice. A Queen's duty was not to flaunt the law on behalf of friendship. Such was a path to corruption. "Alia, you shall be banished from this castle, and from the Dragon, for a period of three months. You shall receive enough pay to house yourself in the city until such time as your banishment is lifted. As such, you will advocate your position as Dragon's Warden for the same period of three months. After which you shall be re-instated to the position at full pay, completely and permanently."

Alia's heart dropped into her belly. Her hands and feet went cold in an instant, and her stomach twisted. Three months? She thought the Queen was going to be lenient. For a moment, she felt anger rising in her, but it was quickly quelled by both common sense and fear. Alia realized the Queen was being lenient. She was being given three months in a house in the city, rather than three months in dungeon cell. To deviate any further from written law would make her a poor monarch.

"I understand, Your Majesty," Alia said, her voice more a throaty whisper than she would have liked.

"That is hardly fitting..." Armadine started.

The Queen cut him off. "Armadine, one single word from you before I have left this Hall, and I shall allow Alia to strike you again. You should consider yourself exceptionally lucky that Alia herself was the one to punish you, rather than bringing you before me. Had you been the one on trial here, for torturing the dragon? You would be begging me for a less fitting judgment."

Armadine scowled, but folded his arms and went silent.

Alia wished she could have smiled at that. Yet she was suddenly filled with cold fear. It was not fear on her behalf, but rather fear on Valyrym's behalf. They had already discussed the possibilities that this trial might lead to, and Valyrym had never taken well to the idea of going without Alia. Nor did he want a temporary Warden in her absence.

In the days between Kathlyn's visit and the trial, Alia had done all she could to reassure the dragon that things would be alright for him. She'd promised him Kathlyn would not take her away, at least not for long. Yet three months suddenly seemed like a nearly unendurable length of time to go without seeing each other. More than anything else, Alia was worried for Valyrym's mental state. While she did not really think it would deteriorate, she did not know how the old beast was going to handle such a time without her. She'd have to make sure her friends were there for him whenever he needed them.

"Your Majesty," Alia said, lifting her eyes to the Queen. She blinked away a stray tear, trying to focus herself. "May I request a temporary stay upon my banishment, under the terms that I must prepare The Prisoner for my absence?"

Kathlyn allowed herself a little smile. "You've no need to request such a thing, Alia. Given that your Warden-Ship seems solely responsible for the dragon's good behavior, it would hardly be wise to remove you abruptly. Your punishment will begin one week from tomorrow. I hope that will be enough time for you to prepare the dragon to deal with your absence. I understand you shall also need to put all your affairs in order so that everything goes smoothly while you are away. This is punishment for your assault, but I do not wish it to cause trouble for the Warden's office, the guards, or any other part of my castle."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alia gave a curt bow, trying to hold her voice together. "That should be enough time. Also, may I respectfully request to appoint my own replacement warden?"

"Temporary replacement," Kathlyn reminded her, as if hoping to cheer Alia up a little. "And yes, you may. You are the most knowledgeable person to make such a choice after all. Is there anything else?"

Alia swallowed hard, shaking her head. "No...No, Your Majesty."

Kathlyn slowly stood up. "Then I shall consider this matter resolved, and your punishment rendered and set to begin in one week. You are dismissed, Alia Silverrain."

Alia gave the Queen a formal bow, dropping to one knee for a moment. She rose, and Bownen led her back out of the courtroom. This time she met no one's eyes, but it was not out of shame or sheepishness. She blinked away a few tears, her heart still fluttering. Already her thoughts were on Valyrym. She had to go see him right away. How was she going to tell him? How would she soothe his anger, his fear? She'd have to make it clear to him that he simply must behave while she was gone.

Somehow, she had to tell Valyrym that he was going to lose her for a while.

---

Chapter Three

---

Valyrym paced. The old black dragon strode up and down his prison, hissing to himself. He limped a little, the pink scar upon his hind leg throbbed yet he scarcely noticed it. From time to time he lashed his tail, clattering the spines that tipped it against the cold stone floor. Fire danced in his golden eyes each time he passed by one of the lanterns hanging from the curved, wrought-iron fixtures recently installed.

Dread, fear, and fury all roiled together in the dragon's belly, each taking a turn to climb his spine and settle inside his mind for a little while. When fury next rose to the forefront, the dragon snarled. He unsheathed his claws and hoisted a front paw in the air, about to strike at one of the many pillars that ran the length of the prison. When he saw the carving of the apple tree on the front of it, he sighed, and slowly set his paw down.

"And she still hasn't brought me my damn painting!" Valyrym said, turning his wedge-shaped head to glare at Kaylen as though it were all her fault.

"I know, I know," Kaylen said softly, trying to soothe the dragon. Despite his anger and his current proclivity to strike things, the somewhat plump young woman showed no fear at all. Instead Kaylen simply reached out and rubbed his nose around the scar that was ever so slowly fading. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Well aren't you the helpful optimist," Valyrym said, snorting. He began to pace again, and Kaylen followed at his side. "Why are you following me?"

"Because if Alia comes down here and finds that you're ruined your carvings in anger, she'll fire me." Kaylen giggled a little, the lilac and gold dress she wore swishing around her as she walked. "And if you injure yourself by striking stone in anger, I'm going to fire myself out of guilt."

"What she's trying to say is that, she's taken it upon herself to keep you as calm as possible while Alia is at the hearing." Thomas walked at the other side of the dragon, keeping a little more distance than Kaylen. "As we're all trying to do. It was just assumed that Kaylen is probably the only one you actually want touching you right now."

Valyrym murmured under his breath, then tossed his head, flaring his spines. "Aren't you all thoughtful."

"We have our moments," Thomas said with a little smile. "I think Kaylen is right, though. Whatever the Queen decides, it will be alright in the end. Didn't she already say they were going to let Alia keep the job no matter what?"

"They may have lied," the dragon murmured, coming to a stop when he reached the end of his prison. He started to turn around, then glanced at Thomas. "Mind the tail." Then he swung himself around, and began to pace back the other way. "Do you honestly think they'll let her get away with it?"

Thomas appreciated the fact the dragon actually warned him about his tail this time. Used to be, he'd just try and knock over anyone he could when he turned around. "That would depend on how you defined getting away with it."

Valyrym growled under his breath, flaring a gray-edged ebon wing to buffet Thomas a little. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, according to Alia the Queen already said she'd have to punish her, but she'd be as lenient as she could." Thomas gave the wing a little shove, and Valyrym tucked it back to his body.

Valyrym flared his central spines, hissing again. "That could mean anything." He glanced around as he strode across the prison. "Where did Vatch go?"

Kaylen giggled, pointing towards the far area, near the tub and some of the barrels of silver water and rum. "He's waiting down there. You're walking awfully fast for him."

"I am not," the dragon muttered.

"You are," Kaylen said, grinning. "You've half winded me, and poor Thomas over there can scarcely keep up with you."

"Speak for yourself, Madam Huff And Puff," Thomas said, glaring at her around the dragon.

"I've no idea what that means, Thomas," Kaylen said, rolling her eyes. "The point is, poor little Vatchy Pup didn't want to get trod upon by the big, grumpy dragon."

"I am not grumpy," Valyrym said with a snap of his jaws. "I am concerned. There is an important difference."

"Yes, I know," Kaylen said, softening her tone. She put her hand on the dragon's neck the same way she'd seen Alia do so often. "Take a few deep breaths. Why don't you go and read with Vatch a little more?"

"I am tired of taking deep breaths. I do not need more air, I need more Alia." That made Kaylen giggle. Valyrym hadn't really meant to phrase it that way, but a little smile crinkled the pebbly, gray-tinged scales of his muzzle anyway. "Besides that, I cannot read right now. I tried and I could not focus. How long is this trial to take?"

Thomas crossed in front of the dragon. The young, black haired man was in his usual semi-formal looking clothing. A stiffly sleeved gray tunic with silver threading and black buttons up the front, along with a black pair of trousers with gray diamonds down the side. He clambered up one of the dragon's ledges, and then another until he could peer through the barred opening of an air vent. "It's well into mid afternoon, so she ought to be back soon."

"Unless they've tossed her in the dungeon already," Valyrym muttered. "I need a drink."

"I don't think that's really..."

Valyrym cut Thomas off, calling out across the prison. "Vatch! Rum! Now!"

"Vatch not think..." Vatch's protest got as far as Thomas' did.

"I said rum, Vatch! Rum, now!" Valyrym glared at the furred creature across the prison. "Or no story time for a week!"

"EEP!" Vatch gave a squeaking yelp at the idea of going without his favorite dragon-based activity.

The chocolate brown furred Urd'thin snatched up the dragon's drinking bowl. He climbed atop the small wooden crate he'd set near the barrels so that he could reach inside them more easily, and scooped up a bowlful of rum for the dragon. Then holding the drinking vessel in both hands, Vatch carefully made his way to where the dragon was waiting. Along the way he did his best not to let the rum slosh out onto the floor, or onto his dark green shirt. It was one of his favorite garments, Kaylen herself had helped tailor it for him with Paulson's instruction. Short sleeves, a rich forest green color with oak leaves embroidered upon the chest in a soft golden hue to match the Warden emblems on the shoulders.

Vatch scrunched his canine-like muzzle, and flattened his oversized brown furred ears back against his head as he offered the dragon the bowl. "Here is rum. But Vatch think is bad idea for dragon to get drunk at time like this."

"I'm not getting drunk," Valyrym muttered, lowering his head to lap directly from the bowl while Vatch held it.

"Hey!" Vatch yipped, stepping back and pulling the bowl away. "Vatch is not table! You take bowl now."

Valyrym growled, narrowing his golden eyes. "A lot of use you are." He dropped back onto his haunches with a sigh, and took the bowl from Vatch. Much as he wanted to make a show of angrily snatching it away, he didn't want to spill any of the rum.

"Doesn't that burn your tongue?" Kaylen asked with a grin as the dragon returned to lapping at the rum.

"Not when the rum is this good," Valyrym replied, licking a few droplets from his snout. Then he glanced back at Vatch, relenting a little. "Thank you, Vatch."

"You welcome," Vatch said, patting the dragon's foreleg. Then he bared his fangs playfully at Kaylen. "And Vatch not pup. I hear you say this."

Kaylen tweaked one of the Urd'thin's ears. "I can't say I'm surprised. With ears like this, I should imagine you can hear my relatives in Aran'alia." Kaylen laughed as Vatch flailed at her hands. It always seemed to drive the furry little creature mad when she toyed with his ears. "But you'll always be Little Vatchy Pup to me."

"Let go of ears, Crazy Lady!" Vatch batted at her hands again, but grinned at her just the same.

"You two are a mess," Thomas said, shaking his head.

"You're all idiots," Valyrym muttered under his breath, glancing at the three of them. Yet a current of affection swirled beneath the waves of anger and worry that had roiled in his words all day. "I don't know what Alia sees in any of you, and I certainly don't know why she lets you all down here."

"Someone has to keep an eye on the big cranky dragon when she's away," Kaylen said. She stretched a little to rub the dragon's wing joint where it met his shoulder.

"And she lets Vatch down here because he's good at stealing things," Thomas said, reaching out to ruffle up Vatch's fur between his ears. Vatch yipped but didn't protest half as much as he did when Kaylen made the same gesture. "Alia's planning to have him abscond with all your stuffed dragons, you see."

"My stuffed family?" Valyrym gasped in mock horror. "I shall eat the both of them if they try."

"Aww, coming to love them are you?" Kaylen smirked, putting her hands on her hips. "That's so adorable."

"Hardly." Valyrym tossed his head. "I'd simply be out of projectiles to hurt at visitors."

"It's alright, Val," Thomas said with a laugh. "We'll make sure they leave you Val Junior to cuddle, at least."

Valyrym lowered his eye ridges, tail tip twitching. "They'd damn well better. He makes better company than the rest of you put together."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Kaylen poked the dragon in the ribs, grinning.

"He knows when to shut up."

"I suppose that is one virtue I lack," Kaylen giggled.

Thomas smirked at her, idly rolling up his sleeves a little. "You say that as though you've a single virtue to your name to begin with."

"Hey!" Kaylen laughed, and stuck her tongue out at Thomas. "If I wasn't so busy comforting poor Valyrym here, I'd have half a mind to chase you around the prison."

"That'd be half a mind more than you've usually got."

Kaylen playfully glared at her friend. "You're getting dangerously close to developing a wit, Thomas. I think you're spending too much time around the dragon." Then she darted over and grabbed Vatch around the middle. The Urd'thin squeaked and struggled, and Kaylen giggled. "Here, Valyrym. If they take your plush toys you can still have Vatch to cuddle on."

"Vatch not stuffed toy!" Vatch laughed, squirming against Kaylen's grasp. He tried to duck down out of her arms, but she held him fast. "You let go now!"

"A fair trade," Valyrym murmured. "Vatch is softer and fluffier, after all."

"Vatch not fluffy," the Urd'thin protested. "Females fluffy! Pups Fluffy! Vatch not fluffy."

"Vatch very much fluffy," Kaylen said, laughing as she let him go. Vatch ran a few steps away from her, then paused to try and flatten down some of his fur. Kaylen smirked. "And look at Vatch now. Grooming his fluff like a little kitten."

Vatch glared at Kaylen a moment, then huffed. "You get mounted now."

Valyrym burst out laughing both at the expression the Urd'thin had picked up from him, and at the startled expression it garnered from the two humans. "That's telling her Vatch."

Vatch grinned at the dragon, straightening out his tunic. "You feel better now after rum, Dragon?"

"A little." Valyrym looked down at his paws. He unsheathed his claws, and idly began to trace little patterns in the stone floor. A series of curved lines, almost like a chain. Then he traced a diamond around them. The scratch lines were very faint, and with a sigh, he swept his paw pad across them as if to wipe them away. Without looking up at anyone, he softly said, "I'm glad you're all here."

That made everyone smile. Valyrym did not object when they pressed in around him to stroke his scales or hug him best they could. He did not return the gestures, but a dragon had to draw the line somewhere. After a few moments, he shook himself, rattling his scales and sending them moving back. "Alright, alright, that's enough. ...Who wants to get me some food?"

That made Thomas laugh. "Isn't that just like a dragon. Furious one moment, starving the next, and emotional in between."

"Yes, yes," Valyrym said, waving his paw. "We're a scaly shell stuffed with confusion. Now fetch me some lunch before I have to eat Vatch."

"Vatch stringy," the Urd'thin casually pointed out, the same way he always did when the dragon just as casually threatened to eat him.

"Which is why I don't wish to have to resort to devouring you." Valyrym licked his muzzle, glancing back at Thomas and Kaylen. "But I haven't eaten anything but rum since breakfast."

"Technically you drank the rum," Thomas pointed out.

Valyrym narrowed his eyes at him. "Food. Now."

"Yes, My Lord and Master," Thomas said with an overly stiff bow. He smiled as he straightened. "I'll see what I can get you."

Thomas trotted off, leaving the dragon with Kaylen and Vatch for a little while. Valyrym was pleasantly surprised by the haste with which Thomas returned. As he re-entered the dungeon, he was flanked by a couple of servants each bearing a tray laden with thickly sliced, lightly roasted meats. The servants nervously approached the dragon, but Valyrym didn't have it in him to frighten them. Instead, he just dropped his head and sniffed at the platters after they set them down and retreated.

"You're in luck, Valyrym," Thomas said, grinning. "They were just slicing roasted elk in the kitchen when I went to see what was available. It's probably for all the idiot nobles in the castle, and I'm sure I'm not supposed to be helping myself. But I thought, what would Alia do? And I realized she'd take all the choicest bits and bring them straight to you. So, that's just what I did. If anyone asks I'll just blame Kaylen."

Kaylen laughed, swatting Thomas on the arm. "You brat. Though you're right, that is what Alia would have done. She'd have blamed you, though."

"She'd have blamed me," Valyrym muttered, spearing a slab of elk with a claw. He hoisted it up and popped it into his muzzle, then gave a little groan of delight. Oh, that was nice.

"That is good practice though, Thomas," Kaylen said. She reached out and grabbed Thomas's shirt sleeve, rolling it back down his arm just to irritate him.

"Practice?" Thomas tugged his arm away from her, rolling his sleeve back up.

"Yes," Kaylen said, nodding. "In case Alia can't...well...In case we have to pick up the slack. It'll be good for you and I to act as much like her as possible."

Valyrym growled under his breath. He wondered if they knew something he didn't. "You sound as though you have knowledge you have not shared."

"Only guesses and assumptions," Kaylen admitted. "We'd already talked about it, though. If Alia is...well, unable to serve you as Warden for a while, we're hoping to be able to fill in for her. To try and keep you happy, keep things running as smoothly as possible until they let her return."

Valyrym flared up his spines, growling low in his throat. He ate another slab of elk, then sighed. Things could be worse. He flicked his claws at Thomas, splattering his face with elk juice droplets. Thomas wiped his face with a hand, and the dragon smirked at him. "So long as this one here does not expect to be...servicing me in the special way Alia sometimes does."

Thomas' eyes went wide, and he backed away with a laugh. "Oh, no, I've no intention of servicing you at all. Not like that, anyway." He jerked his thumb at Kaylen. "Kaylen, though, I sometimes think she'd be happy to "service" you and Vatch at the same time!"

"Hey!" Kaylen laughed. She stomped a foot like a grumpy toddler. "That is quite enough out of you Thomas."

"What means service?" Vatch asked, confused by the entendre.

"It means..." Valyrym started before Kaylen swatted him on the nose. "Ow!" He hissed at her.

"Oh no you don't, Dragon." Kaylen shook her finger at him. "Don't you go giving Vatchy Pup any ideas. And if you keep acting like a scaly brat, and I'll see to it you'll be going without "servicing" whether Alia is suspended or not."

Valyrym snorted, rubbing his nose. "So does that mean if I behave myself, you shall service me yourself if she is absent?"

Kaylen flushed a little, swallowing hard. Perhaps that hadn't come out quite the way she'd intended it. "That isn't what I meant."

"Alia says you quite enjoyed yourself last time," Thomas spoke up, grinning.

"Oh no, Thomas," Kaylen said, turning towards him with narrowed eyes. Her dark hair swished around her rounded face. "You won't get me to admit things that easily."

"So you've something to admit to, have you?" Thomas made a show of examining his fingernails. "I thought as much."

"Nice try, Thomas," Kaylen said, turning back around and immediately changing the subject. "May I have some of your elk, Valyrym?"

"You may," the dragon said with a little chuckle. "A shame my old friend Korvarak can't pay us a visit. I'm sure he'd be happy to experience Thomas' services."

Thomas folded his arms, grinning. "You dragons are perverts."

"Simply less ashamed of the natural pleasures of the world," Valyrym said, eating a few more slices of roasted elk. "More willing to embrace what we enjoy, and less willing to look down on others for enjoying something different."

"Wish more of the world was like that," Kaylen said, settling down on the floor across from the dragon.

Thomas settled down nearby, and soon Vatch did the same. Thomas passed Vatch a piece of elk, and then took one for himself. "It would make things easier if more creatures thought like dragons, I suppose."

"You should see gryphons," Valyrym said with a chuckle. "Or so I hear. According to the Queen, that gryphon she calls friend will share pleasure with anything that breathes." He stroked his muzzle a moment, laughing. "I bet Korvarak would have loved that."

"From the way you talk about him, I'm starting to think this Korvarak was far more into males than females," Thomas said, scooping up some sauce with his elk slice.

Valyrym smirked a little. "No, in truth, I'm sure it was the other way around. He did have a daughter with my sister, after all. But we had to tease him about something." Valyrym waved his paw, laughing to himself. "There was this little runt, Voskalar."

"Like Velvet Vos? You named them all after your old friends, didn't you."

Valyrym murmured. "Yes, I did. Voskalar was a tiny little thing when I first met him. Captured by some soldiers in fact. Nearly pissed himself in fear. An adolescent but not by much. Probably should have still been with his family, but...well, things rarely work out the way they should. Luckily for him, they were Aran'alian soldiers who captured him, and I happened to come along at the right time to talk them into letting him go. Sent him to go see Korvarak, and Korvarak took him on as a sort of beta-dragon the same way I once did for Kor." Valyrym popped a piece of elk into his mouth, murmuring in thought and enjoyment as he chewed it up. "When the war started, Korvarak and Voskalar were nearly inseparable, and Voskalar never seemed to grasp why we were teasing them about it. I'm pretty sure they did play around with each other a time or two, but none of us truly cared. It was just fun to tease them."

"I'm sure it was!" Kaylen giggled. "Did you ever...you know, catch them?"

"Not in the literal sense," Valyrym said, licking juice from his nose. "But in the sense of getting them to blurt things out they shouldn't have, a few times." He chuckled, and then gave a little sigh. "Voskalar was a sweet little thing, really. Earnest, a beautiful heart. More than willing to give his blood to fight for his home." Valyrym held his breath a moment, memories flickering behind golden eyes. The others could almost see the young bronze dragon's ghostly image drifting across Valyrym's gaze. "I wonder whatever happened to him." Then the dragon shook his head, grinning. "I hope that little runt hasn't gotten himself into too much trouble."

"I'm sure he's fine," Kaylen said. She reached out and set her hand atop the dragon's paw, smiling. "Besides, if he was a runt the last time you saw him, he's probably just hitting his prime now that you're all old and decrepit."

Valyrym snorted and flared his spines. "Yes, thank you for that uplifting thought."

"Anytime," Kaylen said, patting the dragon's forepaw.

"Hopefully, wherever he is, he is far from Aran'alia." Valyrym licked his nose. He helped himself to a few more slices of elk, and then sought to explain himself when Thomas and Kaylen gave each other a confused look. "I cannot imagine it a hospitable place for my kind anymore."

"Maybe he moved to Denoria," Thomas suggested, nibbling on some elk as well after handing Vatch another slice. "Enric seemed to think they were quite happy to host dragons."

"Yes, perhaps," Valyrym said, his voice softening as a smile crept over his muzzle. "Denoria. It is not a country I had heard of before then, though it sounds as though it is some good distance from where I once lived. I think...I think that is where my son lives now."

Valyrym turned his eyes up to one of the air vents, staring at the small swath of clear blue sky beyond. He smiled to himself for a moment, and the others were happy to let him enjoy his moment of happiness. Anything that could ease his burden for a little while at a difficult time like this was helpful for the dragon. After a little while, the dragon gave a playful sneer, thumping his tail against the floor. His spines clattered on the stone.

"I shall have to have the Queen bring her bird down here. Then I can wring his neck until he tells me all about my son. Kathlyn wouldn't commit to an answer about where Valar actually lives now, but I am fairly certain it was Denoria."

"I don't think you're supposed to call her Kathlyn," Thomas said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in lieu of a napkin.

"And I don't think she is supposed to withhold information about my son," Valyrym snapped. "She's not my queen. I'll call her whatever I damn well please. Besides, she and I are on a first name basis now. She even cuddled with Alia and I for a time."

All three of Valyrym's visitors burst out laughing. He pulled his head back, neck curling in an S. The old dragon glared down at them a moment. "What's so funny?"

"The idea that you'd cuddle on anything not named Alia, or Val Junior," Kaylen said through her giggles.

Thomas jumped right in. "Actually, I'm not sure which is funnier. That you just admitted to "cuddling", or the fact that you actually think you can convince us the Queen herself cuddled with you!"

"She did!" Valyrym protested, his frilled ears drooping a little. "If it makes it more believable, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Besides, it was Alia's idea, I just went along with it."

"That's actually a little more believable," Thomas admitted, then smirked. "If it weren't for the fact that Alia had been so worried about your behavior before you actually met the Queen."

"She needn't be." Valyrym curled his tail around his paws after pushing the nearly empty tray towards the others. "I was a black-scaled angel."

"That's not how Alia tells it."

Valyrym narrowed his eyes, flaring up his spines. "And how does Alia tell it?"

"She says you called the Queen an old bag and threw things at her."

"That's because Kathlyn is an old bag, and the only thing I threw was soft." The dragon smirked a moment. "As I said, I was an angel. Otherwise I'd have thrown a barrel at her and gone for a nap while Alia attended the bleeding."

"I suppose that would be one way to end your imprisonment. Execution for throwing barrels at the Queen." Thomas grinned, shaking his head.

"Kathlyn wouldn't execute me." Valyrym rose up from the floor, and began to pad over towards one of his ledges. He chose the one with the soft, burgundy rug he'd come to cherish, not that he'd tell anyone. As he climbed up onto the ledge, he glanced back with a toothy grin. "I remind her of her bird."

"Do you then?"

"Yes, that's why she cuddled me." Valyrym stretched myself out upon the rug, sighing. He wished Alia would hurry up and tell him the bad news so he could start dealing with it. Perhaps it would be good news. Probably not. Valyrym was hardly an optimist, he suspected it would only be bad, or worse. "Because she misses her bird."

"I'm actually not surprised he reminds her of the gryphon," Thomas said matter-of-factly.

"And why's that, Thomas?" Kaylen asked, handing the last slice of elk to Vatch. As the Urd'thin eagerly devoured it, Kaylen stacked the trays atop each other to carry them out of the dungeon. Thomas had fetched the food in the first place so Kaylen thought it only fair she return the trays.

"Because the way Alia tells it, the only creature in all the world more layered in vanity and wrapped in smugness than Valyrym is the Queen's gryphon."

Valyrym glared at Thomas a moment. "I should bite you, but I'd never get the taste of pompous twit out of my mouth."

"Case in point," Thomas said, waving grandly at the dragon.

"So I see," Kaylen said, grinning. "I should like to meet this gryphon, sometime. Though I suppose if I made a request of it the Queen would probably have Alia thrown in the dungeon for spilling state secrets to a bunch of Aran'alian servants."

Kaylen made her way to the stairs, and Valyrym sprawled upon the rug. Thomas fetched himself a mug of silver water from the barrel, and brought Valyrym a bowl of it as well. Vatch went to the little office beyond the exit, and soon returned bearing a few of his favorite books. Thomas handed Vatch a little mug of water as well before the Urd'thin settled in on the carpet across from the dragon. He offered the dragon one of the books, a dopey grin spread over his somewhat canine muzzle.

"We read now?"

"May as well make the attempt," Valyrym said, gently taking the book from the Urd'thin. He peered at it, snorting. "The Village And The Dragon, again?"

"Is good book, is happy ending," Vatch said. Then he patted the dragon's paw. "Is cheer you up."

"I suspect I shall need further cheering up by this evening. But I appreciate your gesture, Vatch. Very well." Valyrym eased his head up, opening the book to the first page. "The Village and the Dragon it is."

As Valyrym began to read, Thomas settled in nearby to listen as well. Before long the story had brought a smile to his face. It was rare to read stories depicting his homeland, or at least someone's imaginative interpretation of it. Even rarer to hear stories that ended happily for both the titular village and dragon.

"Is this a true story?" Thomas asked, partway through.

Valyrym glanced up at him, shrugging his wings. "We can hope so, at any rate."

The old dragon returned to reading the story to an increasingly enrapt Urd'thin. Valyrym found Vatch's joy as such simple thing rather infectious. Though he might have hated to admit it, reading the story once again did improve his mood a little bit. This time they didn't quite have enough time to finish the story, though they both knew how it ended. By the time they were nearly three-quarters the way through, Kaylen had returned and was happily announcing who she'd brought with her.

"Look who I just found wandering the halls!" Kaylen said, gesturing towards Alia.

"I was hardly wandering the halls, Kaylen," Alia said, laughing a little. "Though I am sorry it took me so long to get down here. I had to take a bath, and get a change of clothes and some fresh air."

"That bad, was it?" Valyrym asked, lifting his head.

Alia pursed her lips, turning her attention to the dragon. She walked towards him, her heart racing. For a moment, she simply let her eyes linger on Valyrym's, measuring all the hope and fear that roiled within his golden gaze. "No, my Love," Alia said, wishing she could offer him more comfort than that. "It was not so bad."

Alia wore her simple pale blue sundress with the indigo blossoms spiraling across it. She'd had enough of formal wear for the day, and wanted something loose and comfortable. Alia strode to the ledge, and hiked up the skirt of her dress a little bit to climb up atop the recently carpeted shelf of stone. Then she settled down near the dragon, and gently took his head in her hands.

"Careful Alia," Kaylen said, giggling in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You hike that dress up any further and you're going to be showing everyone here your ass."

Alia couldn't help but share the giggle a little. "Is there anyone here who hasn't seen my ass already?"

Vatch slowly lifted his hand, grinning.

Alia laughed harder, and stuck her tongue out at the Urd'thin. "Maybe next time, Vatch." Then she yelped in surprise when Valyrym wrapped a foreleg around her middle and dragged her up against his chest plates. He lowered his head till he was nose to nose with her, and gave her a tender lick. "So? How bad is it?"

Alia tilted her head as he licked at her cheek, and neck, closing her eyes a moment. No hiding their affections now, not among her friends. She liked that, it was liberating in a way. "I told you, it wasn't that bad."

"That does not answer the question." Valyrym, worried as he was, was in no mood for platitudes. He simply wanted to know the answer to his fears.

"You are going to have to do without me for a little while," Alia admitted, slipping her hand under his chin. "But only for a little while. It's only a temporary suspension."

"How long is a little while?" Valyrym growled at her, anger mixing with his fear.

"...Three months." Alia swallowed hard. Thomas winced and Kaylen swallowed, though Valyrym seemed unreadable for a moment save for the shining of his eyes. "I have one week to prepare everything for my absence, and then I am banished from the castle for three months." Alia quickly put her hand on the dragon's nose as if to shush him before he could protest. "But that is it! After that, I return to re-take the Warden Position. Permanently. Forever, Valyrym. After three months, you'll be stuck with me for the rest of my life."

Valyrym did not seem to share her humor. He pulled his head away from her hand, growling low in his throat. He blinked away a few hot tears, pinning his ears against his skull, his spines flat. "Three months..." He unsheathed his claws, and dragged them back against the red-wine toned carpet, leaving long ruts. Alia could feel his body tensing with unspent anger. "You never should have struck him!" The dragon snarled. He lashed his tail, and slammed his paw against the rug. "You should have let it be, Alia!"

Alia grit her teeth. She knew Valyrym didn't mean to take things out on her, and in truth she had expected anger from the dragon. Anger and sorrow and fear for his upcoming time alone. Though his anger began to rouse an indignant sort of the same from her, Alia forced herself to quell it. Growing angry and yelling at Valyrym would not help either of them now. She'd already prepared herself for as much, so she took a deep breath, let her indignant frustration fade, and then simply stroked the old dragon's neck.

"Yes, Valyrym," she admitted. "I should have let it go. But I couldn't. Especially not at that moment. Besides, you're..." Alia paused, trying to choose her words carefully. She'd almost said, you're one to talk about letting things go. But Alia had no desire to reopen old wounds, simply to make her point. "Would you have let it go, Valyrym? If I was the one he'd tortured, and you were the one who came across him skulking about?"

Valyrym growled, glancing away. "I would have killed him."

"Then you should be glad I only shattered his nose and beat the teeth of his mouth," Alia said. "Three months is not that long, Valyrym. So long as you are going to be alright without me..." Alia paused, and took his head in both hands. She pulled it back towards her, kissing his nose. "And you are. I will gladly take three months banishment in return for teaching that little bastard a proper lesson."

Valyrym snorted. "I suppose I cannot say I am totally caught unaware. As soon as you told me of this...trial...I feared they would take you from me."

"Temporarily," Alia reminded him again. "From the first day I am gone, just...count down the days. Surely ninety days or so will fly by for a dragon."

"Yes, I'm sure they will," Valyrym snarled under his breath, waving his paw in the air. "What with all the enthralling activities I'm up to every day." Then he pulled his head back, giving Alia just a little smirk. "Did you really knock his teeth out?"

"Yes," Alia said, grinning. "And you should see his nose. It's all...crooked, and flat." She stroked the dragon's cheek, leaning her head against his muzzle. "And now all the nobles and wealthy families in town know just what a twisted, cruel piece of filth he really is."

"Do they, then."

"Kathlyn and I made sure I got to tell my side of the story." Alia lifted her head, grinning at her friends. "My side being just how badly injured Valyrym was, and how he'd done nothing to deserve it."

Thomas smiled for a moment, but soon it twisted into a scowl. "Wait, did you just call her Kathlyn too? Bad enough the dragon does it. You're going to get us all thrown in the dungeon at this rate."

Alia laughed. "It's not as if I call her that to her face."

"So what was his side of the story?" Valyrym asked, a little more insightful than Alia had hoped he'd be. "I assume if you were attempting to show his true colors, he was attempting to make you look just as bad."

"He was," Alia said. "Thankfully, The Queen was the only one actually passing judgment, and she already knows me."

"What does that mean?" Valyrym cocked his head. "What did he say?"

"I'd rather not..."

"Do I not have a right to know what goes on with you, Alia?" Valyrym flared out his wings with a growl, beating them against the air above everyone. Wind buffeted their hair about as the dragon glared at his lover. "I may be stuck down here, but I am still part of your life, am I not? I would have been there if I could! I want to know what they said, I want to know what you will have to deal with! I want to be able to protect you from it!" The dragon snapped his jaws in frustration, balling up a forepaw and slamming it against the carpet. "I hate knowing you will be out there, alone, for three months while I cannot do anything to help you! Do I not at least have a right to know what was done, what was said?"

Alia sighed, and waited for Valyrym's anger to bleed off a little before she gestured for him to lower his head again. Then she pulled his head back against her body, hugging him to her warmth. Valyrym folded his wings against himself again, grumbling under his breath. Alia stroked his jaw line a little while, trying to decide how much she should tell him. It took her only a moment to realize the dragon was right. Valyrym was her lover now, and he had every right to know what happened in her life.

"Armadine had done a lot of digging," Alia said softly, still rubbing the warm, pebbly scales of the old dragon's jaw. "It was pretty clear he wanted to use the trial as a chance to humiliate me as much as possible. I don't know if he thought he could actually sway the Queen to issue a stiffer punishment, but he certainly wanted to make me look bad in front of as many influential people as he could."

"How so?" The dragon asked, gently nuzzling at Alia.

Alia chewed on her tongue a moment. The more she told the dragon the angrier he might get, and yet she did not want to lie to him. Nor did she wish to hide anything from him. If knowledge spread he'd probably find out eventually, anyway. "First he babbled on about my past, and my scars, and claimed I have a problem with authority."

"Don't you?" Kaylen asked, giggling. Alia's three friends had remained mostly silent to let Alia and the dragon have time to talk, but so far they had stayed on to support the two of them should they need it.

Alia smirked at Kaylen a moment. "Only when that authority is abused. Then the little bastard tried to convince people that I somehow seduced Lord Asterbury and dragged him into that alcove myself."

Thomas scoffed in disbelief. "Did anyone actually believe him? Even I knew Asterbury was a letch."

"Who is Lord Asterbury?" Valyrym asked with a hiss.

"Some idiot noble who pushed your woman into a corner and felt up her tits," Kaylen said, grinning at the dragon.

"You've quite the way with words, Kaylen," Valyrym snorted. "When was this?"

"Before I even met you," Alia said as if to head off the dragon's anger before it began.

"Alia kneed him in the balls," Kaylen added, laughing.

"Good girl," Valyrym murmured.

"Think he coughed one of them up," Kaylen added, still giggling to herself.

"I remember when she did that," Thomas said. "There was a time we all half thought she'd been assigned to you out of punishment!"

"Oh, so I am a punishment to the lot of you?" Valyrym curled his tail, growling. "I see how I rate."

"To be fair, Valyrym," Alia said, grinning and rubbing his nose. "You are awfully hard to put up with."

"Hey!" Valyrym hung his head a little, whimpering.

"Alright, alright, plea for sympathy granted," Alia said, hugging his head again. "Actually I only thought it was a punishment because I didn't know you yet. You should have heard the guards telling me about all the injuries you'd caused over the years as I first descended your stairs. I was half convinced you were going to eat me."

"The guards should not have tried to stick me with pointy things." The dragon growled, casting a glance back at the old scar on his hind leg. "So what else did this idiot have to say about you?"

"Well, I'm not sure how successful his attempts were, for one thing," Alia said, leaning against Valyrym's chest plates. She adjusted her blue dress a little across her legs. "It seemed even the other nobles there knew that Asterbury was a letch. And I think at least some of them understood why I did the things I did when I was younger. I also think some of them didn't appreciate the fact he'd called me before the Queen just to try and roll me around in as much filth as possible. I think there are more reasonable people among the Illandrans than I used to imagine."

"That doesn't really answer the question I asked though, does it."

Alia gave the dragon a bittersweet smile. Sometimes she almost wished he was a little less perceptive. "No, I suppose it doesn't. Very well, Valyrym. He also brought us up."

"Us?" The dragon tilted his head.

"Yes." Alia slowly nodded. Her black hair hadn't finished drying from her earlier bath, it swished around her face in damp strings. "Us. As in, you and I."

"I understand the meaning of the word, Alia." The dragon's voice was growing sharper.

Alia knew the dragon didn't like her dancing around, so she just blurted it out. "He told everyone we were lovers."

Valyrym growled. Vatch squeaked. Thomas sucked in a soft breath and Kaylen gasped.

Alia looked from face to face, her own skin heated and flushed at the admission. Not that she was embarrassed by such a thing in front of her friends now, but to have so many other people know...to have it used to try and humiliate her. "He called me your whore, actually. Basically...he was trying to prove to everyone I'm some sort of...sick pervert using a dragon for my own pleasure, and should therefore be removed permanently from the Warden's Office."

"But...obviously...The Queen didn't..." Thomas wasn't really sure how to proceed.

"The Queen disagreed," Alia said, starting to smile again. "Quite vehemently so."

"Did she then?" Valyrym asked, tilting his head. The idea that the queen would actually defend their relationship in public helped to soothe some of the dragon's simmering anger before it reached a boil.

"Oh yes," Alia said, her smile growing. "In fact she made it quite clear to everyone that she did not care, and neither should they. She basically told them, it was alright if they personally found it distasteful, but that they should keep in mind there was no law against such consensual acts between various peoples, and that they should judge me based upon my performance in my job, and not my personal life."

Valyrym rolled over onto his side a little. He tugged Alia with him, ignoring his squeak of protect. "I knew I liked Kathlyn for a reason. Though I cannot help but wonder if her...feelings...for her bird are not similar."

Alia stroked the scutes of Valyrym's right foreleg. "It was brought up by Armadine, actually. I half thought she'd have him thrown out of the Hall for it, too."

"She should have."

"How did Armadine even know?" Thomas asked, glancing at Kaylen. "Kaylen and I certainly haven't said anything to anyone, and we all know prying information from Enric is like trying to pry a coin from an Urd'thin."

"Hey!" Vatch yipped, glaring at them.

"Sorry," Thomas said sheepishly.

Alia shrugged. "I'm not sure. I know there have been rumors floating around for quite some time. But it seemed like there was far more...concrete information for Armadine to try and use against me. If I had to guess, I'd say Valyrym and I got careless and some guard spotted us. Armadine had a lot of testimonials and claimed to have witnesses ready to call. Though by the time it was clear he was only out to humiliate me in front of as many people as possible, Kathlyn decided it was my turn to talk."

"Well, there's that to be thankful for, at least." Thomas reached out and gently squeezed Alia's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

"I've been through worse," Alia said, smiling at him. She touched his arm in return. "Besides, I think it may have backfired on Armadine. From the sounds of it, half the people there were as disgusted with the way he was using my personal life against me as the other half were by the fact I have a dragon as a lover. And once Enric and I were presenting the evidence of Armadine's cruelty, I think even some of the people revolted by me were starting to turn against Armadine."

"Perhaps one of them will do the world a favor and toss him off some high bridge somewhere," Valyrym said, grumbling. "So...everyone...knows, now."

Alia gave a little shrug. "Well, the people in the court today, do. That is, the wealthy families and the nobles that were invited to bear witness to Armadine's charges. Some of them invited by him, others by the Queen, and others there for protocol, I'm sure. Her advisers, her son, and so on."

"The prince is here?" Kathlyn perked up. "He's usually off playing diplomat, isn't he?"

"Yes, as far as I know. But he's here to run the country while Kathlyn goes on her journey." Alia hooked some damp hair behind her ear. "I think she was hoping he'd see what an ass Armadine really is. Not sure if it worked or not."

"Mm," Kaylen hugged herself, sighing. "I should like to meet him. Was he as handsome as they say?"

Alia shrugged and laughed. "I suppose. I didn't pay much attention to him to be honest. I think they exaggerate the attractiveness of royals to begin with, but he seemed handsome enough." Then she tilted her head back against Valyrym's scales, smiling at him. "Not as handsome as my dragon, though."

"Nor as well endowed," the dragon murmured. There was laughter, and the dragon smiled for a moment. Then he grew more serious again. "Do you think they will give you problems for it? For us, I mean. While you are...where are you going to be, exactly?"

"They're giving me enough pay to get myself a little house in the city," Alia explained. She lifted her hand, idly stroking the dragon's neck. She sighed to herself. Gods, she was going to miss him. Still, she could last three months. She knew it was going to be harder on him than it was on her. "I don't think they'll give me problems for it. Perhaps some disgusted looks, some dirty words and slurs. But I'm Aran'alian, Valyrym. I've heard that all my life. If they want to call me a dragon's whore, that's fine. If they push it too far, they'll just have to answer to my boot and my fist."

"Perhaps no one outside the court will know, anyway," Thomas suggested. He didn't much like the idea of Alia beating up everyone who insulted her. Well, actually he did like that idea. He just didn't want her to get herself in any more trouble.

Kaylen prodded Thomas' shoulder, grinning. "You're probably right, Thomas. Because everyone knows that the nobles and the wealthy never do any gossiping."

"It doesn't matter if they know," Alia said. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against Valyrym. "And I'll be fine. It's not as though I'm being banished to some blackened wasteland. I'll just be in the city, away from the castle for a few months."

"Three months," Valyrym murmured.

"Yes, Val, three months," Alia said, tilting her head back and forth as though tickling his scales with her hair. "After all the years you've spent here, three months should be nothing for a dragon. And just think of all the treats and presents I'll have accrued to bring you by the time I return."

Valyrym snorted, lifting his head a little. "I should hope you're not stashing away treats for the entire three months or they shall gone quite rotten by the time you return."

"And if you misbehave for Kaylen and Thomas, that's all you'll be getting when I return. Rotten cake and moldering dumplings."

"I shall promise no such good behavior for either of them," the dragon said, turning his golden eyes towards his other three friends. "I shall behave for Vatch, though. He knows how to get things done around here."

"As long as you're behaving for someone," Alia giggled, looking at Vatch.

Vatch grinned back at her, perking his oversized brown furred ears. "Vatch Warden now."

Alia's smile twisted into a scowl. "Oh, no. Not for another week, anyway."

Kaylen gave a gasp. "You're making him the warden?!"

Alia couldn't help laughing. "No, I don't think so. Sorry to disappoint, Vatch."

Valyrym gave a disappointed, mewling sound. "Shame. He'd have done a far better job than the rest of you. Especially you, Alia. I don't think you could have bungled this operation any worse."

"No, I've certainly made quite the mess of things." Alia hooked her arm around the dragon's neck when he lowered his head to pull him against her body. "Actually, I'm thinking of making Thomas the warden."

Alia stroked Valyrym's neck while watching her friends to see how they handled that idea. Thomas's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He stammered a few times, mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling for oxygen. His ears flushed a little, and Kaylen stared at him with a gaping expression of her own.

After a moment, Kaylen gave a mock huff, putting her hands upon her hips. "And I thought I outranked him!"

"It's only a temporary position, anyway," Alia said, smiling. "With all due respect to you, my lovely Kaylen. I think Thomas has the wisest business sense and the greatest ability to deal with extremely frustrating people out of the lot of us." She waved her hand at Kaylen, smirking. "You're always threatening to knee people in the groin, and even I've just gotten out of trial for assaulting a nobleman. In fact I think Thomas here is the only one of us who hasn't been in some kind of trouble with authority."

"Ah," Kaylen said, nodding. She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "So you're just appointing a pushover to the job for the sake of appearances. I can live with that. So long as Thomas is willing to admit I'm better than him."

"I shall admit no such thing," Thomas said, laughing. "I don't know about this though, Alia. Why don't you consider appointing Enric?"

Valyrym grunted at that idea, flicking his spined tail. "The man spends too much time acting like my friend as it is."

Alia ignored the dragon. "I considered Enric for a moment. And then I realized that even if I offered him the position and he accepted, it would be a pretty big demotion. It's a wonderful job for us, obviously, but Enric? The man's a highly respected captain of the guard and longtime spy for Her Majesty. I rather feel Dragon Warden is a bit of a step down for him."

"How is that expected to make me feel?" Valyrym asked, tilting his head back against Alia's body to glare up at her face.

"Oh, hush up you scaly old bastard," Alia said. She leaned down to kiss his nose.

"I see how I rate," Valyrym muttered.

"Besides," Alia went on, gesturing at Thomas again. "I'd rather have a capable Aran'alian in charge. After all, that was part of this whole grand experiment the Queen came up with. To prove to everyone we're as capable as they are. Apparently, I've done well enough to help prove her point, and as proud as I am of that, I shall be even prouder if you can continue that trend for me. To show them that I am not an aberration. That I can leave the position, another Aran'alian can step in, and continue to do the job just as well."

Alia paused, and leaned forward to put her hand against Kaylen a moment. "Kaylen, I love you like my sister, and I don't doubt you could this job yourself. But remember when we first went to see Paulson together, and you talked about how glad you were you wouldn't have to feel like you were putting yourself in a neat little box for the Illandrans all the time any more? If I made you the warden, you would have to put yourself back in that box, and lock it shut for the next three months. As soon as the butchers and suppliers and everyone else we have contracts with hear that there is a new warden, they are going to seek to cut themselves better deals. You'll have to deal with them for weeks on end, I'm certain. To say nothing of every other person you'll have to meet with to learn all the logistics of actually keeping a dragon fed and sheltered and paid for, and with all the infuriating idiots who will try and pull rank upon you to get a chance to come gawk at Valyrym. And with the guards who'll question you about this and that and..."

"Alright, alright," Kaylen said, laughing. "I get the idea. I'm not sure I could cram myself back in that little box anymore, anyway." She gave a little sigh, and then smiled at Thomas. "You're right, though. Thomas is far better at that sort of thing than I am."

"Thank you, Kaylen," Thomas said, grinning.

"It is after all the sort of job best suited for a stiff blouse who doesn't know how to have any fun, and doesn't mind how much you insult him." Kaylen smirked, poking Thomas in the arm.

Thomas poked her back. "I know how to have fun. Besides, if that was what the job really needed, how did Alia do it so well?"

"Dumb luck," Alia offered, laughing. "I wasn't exaggerating though, Thomas. You will have to do all those things, and I do think you're the best suited for it. Out of all of us, I mean. Even myself. I may be better at actually handling the dragon, but you're far and away the most business savvy. Or at least the most people-savvy. I've bumbled my way through contract negotiations and things by sheer determination but I think you'll be able to beat even my rates. Which, I assure you, would impress quite a few important people around here. So what do you say? Want to be the Warden a while?"

Thomas gave an exaggerated sigh, folding his arms over his chest. "I suppose someone's got to do it, it may as well be me. Very well Alia, I accept this offer. I also accept what I assume will be a substantial pay increase."

"You may be disappointed then," Alia said, laughing. "But I'm glad to hear it. Then again, I suppose if Kaylen and Vatch don't carry their weight around here while I'm gone, you can always reduce their pay in penalty and pocket the rest."

"An excellent idea," Thomas said, grinning at Kaylen.

"I shall knee you if you do, Thomas."

"I shall fire you if you do that, Kaylen."

"You see?" Alia giggled. "Thinking like the Warden already." Alia rose to her feet, walked around the dragon's front leg, and then sat back down to lean up against his side, just behind his shoulder. As she got comfortable, she turned her attention to the others. "Now, a few other things we'll need to go over."

"I am not furniture to be manipulated for your comfort," the dragon said in protest.

Alia ignored him completely, rubbing his scales. "As I said, I have a week left. In that week, I will set up as much as I can to make sure everything goes smoothly while I'm away. I'll also run the three of you through as much information about your new responsibilities as I can. Thomas will be taking over directly for me, so Kaylen and Vatch will have to step up and take on a share of his previous duties."

Kaylen stuck her tongue out at Thomas. "I'm sure I can make time to walk around and act pompous at least twice a day. Vatch, do you think you'll have time to complain at least once a day, and tell us why we shouldn't be doing what we're doing?"

Vatch gave a solemn nod. "Vatch do his very best."

Thomas just snorted. "You two are begging for a pay cut."

"Good," Alia said, leaning her head back against the dragon again. She could faintly feel his powerful heart beat thudding behind his scales, beneath his ribs. "Now, while I'm being banished from the castle, and by extension my lovely dragon here, I am not forbidden to meet with you three. In fact I believe I'm going to be allowed to meet with you whenever needed, so long as it is in the city, in order to discuss business. Such as how things are going with the dragon and if you're having any problems. I'll be expecting an update at least once a week, perhaps twice a week."

"Right," Thomas said with a nod. "I'll keep excellent logs, Alia, and I'll have reports prepared for you weekly if not more often."

"Good," Alia replied, then smirked. "Really though I'm just looking for an excuse to meet with my friends. But I would like those reports."

"Where are you going to live?" Kaylen rose to her feet, and went to the barrels to get everyone a drink. She returned with an armload of cups filled with silver water, then filled up the dragon's bowl as well. "And will we get more of this stuff? We're almost out."

"I'll see about another barrel before I'm kicked out," Alia giggled. "After that it will be up to Thomas to keep on top of that sort of thing. But last time I talked to her, she seemed to hint she had plenty more to offer." Alia pursed her lips. "Which was a bit of a surprise actually, given that the first time I enquired about it, she acted as though it was very scarce."

"Can't be that hard to barrel up rain," Thomas muttered. "Probably having wagonloads of it shipped to her now that it's selling so well to all the Aran'alians thirsty for a taste of home."

"Probably true," Alia said, nodding. She worked her pale blue dress out over her legs a little, and then glanced at Kaylen. "Speaking of home. To answer your other question Kaylen, I'm thinking of getting a little home near the Aran'alian district. Perhaps by where we used to live."

"Really?" Kaylen scrunched her face up, shaking her head. "It's a bit slummy isn't it?"

Alia burst out laughing. "Slummy? Listen to you, working as a servant in the castle for a few years, and suddenly your old home is slummy."

"Oh, it was always slummy," Kaylen said, giggling. "I just couldn't afford to live anywhere better. And if you must know it's the promotion to Warden's Assistant that's done it. I've become quite the uppity snob."

"Yes, I'm sure you have." Alia smirked at her friend. "How long has it been since any of us have actually been to the old Aran'alian district? I had a bit of a look around the last time I went to see that vendor..."

"The spy?" Thomas asked, quirking a brow.

"Yes, Thomas," Alia said, scoffing a little. "If you want to call her that. Whatever she's doing here, she's the only one who can get me that water for us to enjoy. Anyway, I wandered around a bit. Things seemed nicer than I remembered, at least in the part of the district I was in. Things seem fixed up lately. There were also a lot more Aran'alians than even when we were all children. I think it will be nice to live among them again for a little while. Maybe hear some stories of our home from people who've just recently arrived."

"Yes, I'm sure that's the sort of story you'd be dying to hear, Alia," Thomas said, rolling his sleeves back down. "Nothing like hearing how oppressed we are back in our own homeland."

"Can't be much worse than here," Kaylen said.

"Is it really that bad here, though?" Alia countered. "The three of us are clearly doing just fine."

"If only the rest of us could get a decent job, I might be inclined to agree with you."

"This is the first step, though, isn't it?" Alia waved her hand around them. "The three of us doing an important job, succeeding at it. I'd like to think the Queen is right, and that we really are...well...The tip of the spear, as it were. If we want to see our people succeed, we have to set the example. We're already doing that, and soon, I'm sure others will be following in our steps. I can tell you, if I get a place in the Aran'alian district, I shall be happy to help as many of them find good jobs as I can while I'm there. I've made enough contacts now that I think I know quite a few places who will be willing to hire them on at good rates, and treat them as equals."

"Ah, so you've some ulterior motive for moving into the Aran'alian district." Thomas grinned at her. "Good on you. Just..."

"Just what?" Alia tilted her head, a hint of concern flickering in her eyes.

"Be careful how you approach the subject, Alia." Thomas wrung his hands a little, then sipped his silver water from his wooden mug. "Some people might take it the wrong way. They might think you're being condescending to them. Some wealthy castle worker come to pay a visit to the poor and tell her people how they ought to be running their lives."

Alia's emerald eyes flickered a little. She hadn't really thought of it like that. She took a drink of water, and swished it about in her mouth in thought. "I suppose I see your point. I don't want them to get the idea I think I'm better than them or anything. I'll see how it goes, and wait for the right moment, and the right people to approach about the subject. I'll be careful."

"You'd better be," rumbled Valyrym. "If I have to tear down that wall to come protect you, I shall be quite cross."

"Oh no," Alia said sternly, though a grin diffused the sharp tone of her voice. "You won't be tearing down any walls. We are going to wait until the Queen returns, and sets you free."

"You sound awfully optimistic about that lately." Valyrym smiled a little. He wouldn't say it, but he appreciated the optimism Alia had brought into his life. It warmed his buried heart a little more day by day.

"And why shouldn't I be?" Alia prodded Valyrym's foreleg until he lifted it. She crawled beneath it, and he draped it around her middle. "The Queen herself was snuggling with you. Why shouldn't she decide you've suffered enough?"

"Wait..." Thomas stuttered a little, nearly choking on his water. "Wait...wait! The Queen..."

"I told you," Valyrym snorted.

"The Queen really did snuggle with him?" Kaylen asked when Thomas couldn't quite spit out the words.

"She most certainly did," Alia said, grinning. "Not that I'm supposed to tell anyone. But it's alright. No one else would believe it anyway."

"I didn't even believe him," Thomas said, gesturing to Valyrym with his cup. A little water sloshed over his fingers. "I thought he was making it up."

"That's because you're an idiot," Valyrym growled, narrowing his sun-gold eyes.

"No, it's because you're always telling us stories that are half true at best," Thomas said, glaring right back at the dragon.

"The point is," Alia said, her voice like a hardened shield set between the two of them. "That when the Queen returns, and when she sets Valyrym free, he and I are getting the hell out of here. And as we've previously discussed, you three are welcome to come with us to go and visit his son in Denoria, or wherever it is he's settled himself."

"I cannot carry all four of you," Valyrym said, stretching out his gray-edged wings as if to show their tatters. "Especially with wings that have not carried me aloft in years I care not to count. I glide and pump my wings to keep some strength in them but it is not the same. We shall have to leave someone behind. Perhaps two someone's. I nominate Thomas."

"Why me?" Thomas asked, huffing. "I think we should leave Kaylen behind. She'd only drive everyone crazy, anyway."

Valyrym gave a throaty laugh. "Yes, well, I may be leaving her behind as well. As I'll be carrying Alia, certainly, and Vatch of course."

Vatch beamed, thrusting his mug into the air as if in victory. Water splashed him and made him pin his ears back. "Vatch win!"

"Don't feel bad," Valyrym told Thomas and Kaylen. "We can get the Queen's bird to carry you two."

"Oooh!" Kaylen squealed, balling up her fists in front of her face. If Valyrym meant it as an insult it clearly backfired as she bounced upon the burgundy carpet in unbridled glee. "I'd love to ride a gryphon!"

"What?" Valyrym curled his neck, hissing. "What about riding a dragon?"

"I've already done that," Kaylen said dismissively. "Now I want to ride a gryphon."

"You haven't ridden a dragon into the skies," Valyrym insisted, his tail coiling slightly.

"But I've ridden you around the prison, I'm sure it's all the same." Kaylen waggled her fingers as if brushing away the entire idea. "Besides, I'm sure gryphons are much better flyers anyway."

Valyrym narrowed his eyes, growling low in his throat. His wings twitched as though they felt insulted by the very concept. "They most certainly are not. They spend more time telling you how well they can fly than they do actually flying in the first place. Dragons are certainly the superior flyers."

"That's not what you told the Queen," Alia giggled, poking Valyrym's chest plates. "Or me."

"You keep that up, and you'll be riding the bird too." Valyrym abruptly opened his wing and curled it partly around himself to cover Alia. "No more out of you."

"Hey," Alia complained, pushing at the dragon's wing. "Let me out of here."

"When you apologize."

"For what?" Alia tried to wriggle her way free, but Valyrym tightened his wing around her. "I'm not the one who said dragons can't fly as well as gryphons."

"You just did! Even if you weren't the first one to bring it up." Valyrym glowered at Kaylen, flaring his spines. Kaylen utterly ignored him and instead began to fidget with the sleeves of Thomas's shirt. He batted at her, and Valyrym grunted. He didn't like being ignored when he was acting like a brat. "Someone apologize to me!"

"Vatch sorry," the Urd'thin said, rising to his feet.

Valyrym licked his nose. "That's a start."

Vatch stretched his arms up over his head, his tail fluffing out behind himself. He yawned and his pink tongue curled inside his vaguely canine-ish muzzle. "Vatch sorry dragon not fly as good as gryphon."

"Oh you can all kiss my stones." Valyrym huffed, then began to squirm and fidget as Alia brushed her finger pads over the inside of his wing membranes. His wing twitched at the ticklish assault. "Stop that!" Valyrym's wing twitched again and he found himself retracting it just to pull it away from Alia's fingers. "Stop that at once!"

As soon as there was a chance to wriggle free of his grasp, Alia did just that. She squirmed loose of his fore leg and then danced away from the dragon to join her friends as Valyrym rolled over onto his belly again.

Valyrym hissed at everyone, folding his wings tightly against his body. "No fair tickling my wings."

"Aww, did Alia find a ticklish spot on the dragon?" Kaylen cooed to him, sticking out her tongue.

Alia smirked. "He's got a few of them."

"Yes, I seem to recall you demonstrating that for me."

"And it's a good thing too," snapped the dragon. "Once Alia's not here, you're going to be expected to pick up the slack in other areas, too. So I hope you recall the particulars of that lesson."

"Not much to it as I recall," Kaylen said, grinning at Alia. "A few quick moments of a little rubbing and you were spent. Rather anti-climatic really."

"At his age that's about the best he can do," Alia said right back to her friend, giggling.

Valyrym pushed himself up onto his haunches, curling his tail around his paws. He gave a dramatic sigh, hanging his head and flattening out his spines. "I don't know why I let you all down here. All you ever do is tease me."

"And you love us for it," Alia said, patting the dragon's nose. She smiled at him a moment, and when Valyrym soon returned the smile, Alia moved to take his head and hug him tightly against her body. She stroked his pebbly scales, and soon the old dragon was gently purring for her. The sound oozed from his throat, softer than usual as though the stone-filled barrel she often imagined his purr resembling had been lined with velvet. "You'll be alright, Valyrym. I won't be gone that long, and then you'll have me all to yourself, for the rest of my life."

"The rest of my life too, I think," the dragon said softly. Alia knew his years better than he did, but he knew well enough his body was slowly wearing down. Even dragons had their limits, and he had been here a long time without proper exercise and nutrition. Age would take its toll even faster on him than it would a free, healthy dragon.

"That's not so bad, is it?" Alia asked, pressing her forehead to his muzzle. "To grow old together?"

"No Alia, it is not." Valyrym's voice began to grow a little hoarse. He resented getting emotional in front of anyone but Alia, but he was starting to get used to it lately. "I would be ever so grateful to any Gods or Fates who saw fit to let me watch you age alongside me for the rest of my days."

"And we shall do so in freedom," Alia said, stroking the dragon's jaw. "Wherever your son lives, that is where we shall live, if he will allow it."

"If the Queen..."

"Damn the Queen," Alia said sharply. "If Kathlyn doesn't let you go, Valyrym, I will free you myself. I told you, the winds have carried me here to tell you that you've suffered enough. And they have also brought me here to bring you at last to freedom."

Valyrym chuckled a little at that pleasant thought. A lovely warmth blossomed in his heart and poured through his body like a fresh spring oozing hot water. "And how do you plan to do that, if the Queen denies your bid?"

Alia kissed the dragon's nose then pulled her head back to give him a cryptic smile. "You shall have to wait and see. But suffice it to say, I am hard at work upon a viable backup plan."

Valyrym slowly cocked his head, lowering his eye ridges. His voice was flat. "Are you then?"

"I am," Alia said, patting his nose. She turned around, swishing her skirt in the dragon's face. "As of this moment, I am also hard at work on the idea of throwing a party down here."

"A party?" Valyrym snorted at her attempts to change the subject. Still, he had to admit he was intrigued. Damn it Alia, he thought. Why must she be so good at redirecting him? "What manner of party? If you're planning to invite half the castle down here in their ball gowns and finery, I shall have to deny it. My home is filled with enough fools lately as it is."

"That's alright, Valyrym," Thomas said, smiling at the dragon. "I don't think you'd look good in a ball gown, either."

"You couldn't find a gown big enough for my balls." The dragon smirked to himself, lifting his spines a little.

"That's not what ball gown..." Alia began, the abandoned the attempt. "Oh, never mind. That's not the sort of party I was talking about, anyway." Alia climbed down off the ledge, looking around the dragon's prison. "I meant, a party just for us. One of my last nights here. We've talked about Kaylen cooking dinner for us, right? Well, why not do that next week, before I have to leave? We can all help her make something truly special for Valyrym, and we can all sit around and talk and tease each other. We can drink, and celebrate, and eat cake." Alia spun back towards the others. "Like the very first night I brought Thomas and Kaylen down here, only this time we won't have anything to be sad about. We'll just enjoy ourselves."

"So, a going away party for you," Kaylen said, following Alia down off the ledge.

"I rather like that idea," Thomas said, pushing himself up to his feet. He finished off his water and set his mug aside.

"Yes, a going away party," Alia replied, smiling. "And when I come back, we can throw another one, just because."

"Vatch can come too?" Vatch got to the edge of the ledge, and Thomas helped him down to the ground. "Vatch never go to party before."

"Yes, of course you can come, Vatch," Alia said. She worked at a ruffle in her blue dress, mulling things over. "Do you think we should invite Enric?"

Valyrym tossed his head. "Why don't we just invite the Queen herself while we're at it."

"I would, but she might be gone by then," Alia said, laughing. "Though I bet it would be delightful fun to see her and that pompous black feathered friend of hers get stumbling drunk."

Valyrym rose to all four paws, and followed the others off the ledge. As he climbed down he swished his spined tail like a cat contemplating whether to meow for attention or bite someone. "This is your idea, then? To spend your last night here with some sort of drunken festivity?"

"Actually," Alia said, a playful grin creeping across her lips. "I was thinking the party might be my second to last night here. I thought I might rather have the place all to myself on my last night here."

"Ah," Valyrym said, nodding. The dragon smiled to himself. "I rather like that idea."

"As do I," Alia said. "It'll give me a chance to cuddle with Val Junior."

"Oh, I'll give you something cuddly alright," Valyrym said with a playful snarl, baring his fangs.

Alia tapped a finger against her chin. "Yes, I suppose I could snuggle on Cuddly Korvarak, as well."

"I'll give you something...snuggly..." Valyrym grunted, then huffed a sigh. "Alia, it has been too stressful a day for me to keep coming up with euphemisms."

Alia couldn't help laughing at that. She gave Val's head a hug, stroking one of his spiny crests a moment. "Do you like the idea, though? I know we'd talked about having Kaylen cook you a lovely meal, and we do all seem to get along well enough now I thought you might enjoy having everyone spend the night that way."

Valyrym murmured a little bit, then smiled at her. "Yes. I do quite like that idea." He gently pressed his wedge-shaped head against Alia's body for a moment, closing his eyes. "It has been a very long time since I...simply spent an evening with friends." He swallowed hard, a little lump forming in his throat. "With...with my friends. I would...enjoy that immensely."

"Then it's settled. In just under a week, we all help Kaylen cook, and then we get drunk off our scaly, furry, and soft asses." Alia laughed to herself.

Valyrym laughed with her, savoring her warmth, and her love. He lifted a paw and gently stroked her back. For a moment he wished he could stay like that forever. Perhaps, soon enough, he could. Three months. It was not so bad. He could make do without Alia for three months, in return for spending the rest of his life with her.

Yes. He liked the sound of that.

The rest of his days with Alia.

Still smiling at that idea, Valyrym lifted his head. "Come. I want to show you all something I've started carving recently, since the Queen's visit."

"Oh?" Alia rubbed his neck, and began to walk alongside the old dragon. She stroked his neck as they crossed the chamber, with the others following behind them. "And what's that?"

"My son," Valyrym said, his smile growing. "Flying."

"Ah," Alia said reverently, smiling up at him. "I was wondering what you'd started working on over there."

"Yes," Valyrym murmured to himself. "After...she told me he can fly, I found myself dreaming of Valar. I don't know how accurate my image of him as an adult is, but...I felt inspired. After I show you, we shall have a toast, I think, while I've still some good rum left."

"And what shall we be toasting, my lovely dragon?" Alia patted his shoulder, gesturing for the others to catch up to them.

Valyrym turned his head to smile back at Alia as they walked. For once his golden eyes shone only with love, and hope.

"The rest of our days."

---

Chapter Four

---

Queen Kathlyn of Illandra smiled to herself as she listened to the rustling leaves all around her. She stood in the midst of her personal garden oasis atop one of the famous five towers of the keep at the heart of Illandra. The trial had taken a lot out of her, and though she still had preparations to make, she needed a little time to relax and collect her thoughts. Her garden always helped to center her. She'd retreated there not long after dismissing everyone from the court, and having Bownen ferry some documents to Alia involving the details of her punishment.

Kathlyn's heart sank. She hated having to do that to poor Alia. The woman didn't deserve that sort of punishment. As far as Kathlyn was concerned, Alia didn't deserve any punishment at all. But laws were laws, and now more than ever she had to show her people she was willing to support those laws. She'd already stretched them a little with her creative punishment in order to keep Alia out of the dungeons herself. Yet the rule of law was important to Kathlyn, and much as it pained her she had to set an example. Letting Alia go totally unpunished would have been abusing her power and position.

It wasn't that bad, really. Alia would return to her position before Kathlyn had even returned from her upcoming journey. Hopefully then she'd have good news to share with Alia. She'd come to like that young Aran'alian woman. If the first round of negotiations for the liberation of some of Illandra's provinces were successful she would want Alia and her dragon to be among the first to know after her ministers. Then would come the more difficult task of informing the rest of Illandra.

Still, Kathlyn had worked throughout her monarchy to try and position herself as a trusted ruler. Issuing punishment to Alia even when she hoped it was clear that Armadine was just as much in the wrong would show people she continued to respect the laws of the land set down long before she took the throne. That was just as important to Kathlyn as trying to make things right.

Kathlyn paused to savor the warm, gentle breeze that blew through the many trees and flowerbeds covering the top of the tower. The wind brought with it the scents of sage and lilac and apple blossoms. Some days it was very windy atop the tower, but today the breeze was as soft as Krek's feathers. That made Kathlyn smile. If only the old bird was here now, he'd certainly help improve her mood.

Wanting to feel the breeze all across her body Kathlyn twirled in place, a half-full watering can in her grasp. The soft, loosely fitting cream colored sundress she wore swirled around her. Red hair streaked with gray billowed about her face, allowed to hang wherever it pleased now that she'd had a chance to take off the crown. If any of her guards were paying the least bit of attention, they knew well enough not to make any snide remarks about her moments of playful behavior.

Kathlyn smiled to herself as she thought of Krek. She poured some water from the green painted vessel into the gray stone planter of a large apple tree. Thick green moss coated the planter in a few places, nourished by the frequent watering the apples got and sheltered by the shade of the boughs. Kathlyn reached down and ran her fingers against the soft, damp moss, thoughts drifting to Krek and his mission. By now he'd probably already reached Denoria and that little village where Valar lived. Surely Krek was hoping to get his old friend to talk Kylaryn out of...

"I thought I might find you here." The slightly resigned voice of Kathlyn's only son drew her from her thoughts before they grew too dark. Still, she suspected that very subject was what her son had come to discuss. "Lot of damn stairs, though. If anyone ever asks me what I attribute my mothers continued good health to I shall tell them it is because she spends most of her days climbing and descending every stair case in the whole castle."

Kathlyn smiled to herself a little bit. She turned slightly to water another tree, and waved her free hand towards her son. "Hello, Elvir."

"Hello, mother," the prince replied. "Do you need some help with that?"

"I could use a few more watering cans full of water, if you don't mind."

The prince grunted. But Kathlyn soon heard some cans rattle as Elvir picked up a few empty ones, and vanished back down into the tower to fill them up with water from the barrels kept within. After Kathlyn poured the last of the water in the can she held into the tree, she walked to the nearest guard and shoved the can into his armored chest. Without a word, the guard descended the stairs beneath the trap door to fill up that watering vessel as well.

As Kathlyn waited for her son to reemerge she pulled her hair back behind her head. Yet she had nothing to tie it with, and as soon as she let it go the breeze was buffeting it back around her face. She tried to smooth out and adjust her dress against her body, but the wind was blowing it around just the same. After a moment's effort she sighed and gave in. It wasn't as though her son had never seen her looking less than regal before.

The prince soon crested the stairs bearing several full watering cans, one of dark wood and another of simple tin. He handed the wooden can to his mother, and kept the tin one for himself. Soon Elvir was looking around for plants in need of watering. He attended some droopy looking blue and purple flowers while his mother returned to watering some of the trees. Kathlyn knew he'd come up here for a reason, but if she pressed him for it he'd only get cross with her. Best to let him bring things up at his own pace.

Now and then she glanced over at him. The prince had taken after Kathlyn in many ways. He had the same red hair she'd had in her youth, though that was a common enough trait to many Illandran families. The hints of curl to the prince's hair were definitely from his mother's side, as were the dark, piercingly blue eyes he possessed. The stout structure of his face, sturdy cheek bones and sharp nose all came from his father. Prince Elvir had also inherited the strength of his father's body, a soldier's build that while not massive by any stretch was still strong and firm no matter how many evenings the prince spent drinking with his often idiotic friends.

Kathlyn saw his father in Elvir now and then. A twinge of old pain clenched her heart for a moment as she looked at her son. All these years later and she still missed his father. He'd never even gotten to see his son. Kathlyn liked to think that Elvir's father would have been proud of him. But he'd probably be disappointed to know his son so often associated with men like Armadine. Still, Kathlyn was doing what she could to try and wean her son from the influence of his more poisonous friends. Hopefully today he'd gotten a better idea of what she meant when she spoke of Armadine's less reputable behaviors.

When Kathlyn had exhausted her supply of water, the guard she'd sent for more approached and swapped her wooden can for the green-painted one he'd just refilled. She thanked him, and sent him on his way to fill up the wooden one again. Kathlyn began to water a long, narrow wooden planter. A crisscrossing trellis was anchored into the dirt, wreathed heavily with dark green leaves from the bramble that crawled across it. A few blackberries clung to the vine here and there, with many more berries just beginning to develop amidst a lingering scattering of small white flowers. Kathlyn plucked a berry and popped it into her mouth. The delightful sweetness made her murmur. She took another one, glancing towards her son.

"Have a few of these berries, Elvir, they're lovely."

"I didn't come here to eat berries," Elvir said sullenly. The half emptied tin watering can now sat atop a baked-clay planter, as forgotten as the sage bush he'd once intended to water. Given how shrouded it was in healthy purple flowers, it could probably go a little while longer without water, anyway. "You were too hard on him."

"Is that really what you've come here to talk to me about?" Kathlyn asked, eating another berry.

Elvir scowled, idly tugging at one of the gold hemmed sleeves of his rich purple tunic. "Don't change the subject, Mother."

"I suspect you have a second subject in mind for discussion already." Kathlyn clucked her tongue, then chuckled. She walked to the prince and began to water the sage bush he'd forgotten about. "But if that is what you wish to discuss first, then I will inform you that if I wished to be hard on Armadine I'd have had him thrown in a dungeon."

"He was not the one in trial," Elvir insisted, grinding his teeth. "And yet you let that woman drag him through..."

"No more so than he did to her," Kathlyn cut the prince off. "Armadine is the one who asked to have the charges presented, and Armadine is the one who chose to spend all of his time blathering about her personal life and her history and doing all he could to embarrass her. After he'd spent so much time ridiculing her in front of everyone, I could not fairly prevent her from offering the same sort of details on her own behalf, now could I."

"I suppose not," Elvir muttered. "But he did not deserve to be humiliated in front of the whole court that way."

"Neither did Alia," the Queen said, giving her son a long look. "And yet Armadine chose to spend his time doing exactly that. It was almost as if he only wished to press these charges in the first place to get a chance to publicly humiliate the woman."

"I think that's a bit exaggerated."

"If all he cared about was the end result, why did he request the noble families and wealthy houses to be in attendance? The law allows him to present his case to me in private, if he truly wished it, with only Alia in attendance to present her own defense. Instead he chose a public trial, as I suspected he would, because that man cares more about his image and the image of others than he does the law itself. You heard the way he dragged her through the mire, Elvir." Kathlyn reached out and gently squeezed her son's shoulder. "I know he is your friend, and I know you are loyal to your friends. As you rightly should be. But surely even you can see that Armadine is in the wrong here."

Elvir scowled, though he knew his mother was right, much as he hated to admit it. "Still. You should have cut that horrible woman off long before you did."

"Come now," Kathlyn said, patting his arm. "She's hardly a horrible woman. Your friend deserved the battering she gave him, and she's done nothing but an exemplary job since I gave her the position." She smirked a little bit. "You cannot hold it against her that she has proved you and Armadine and the others wrong. I shall not make you admit that an Aran'alian has performed the job better than any Illandran, because I'm sure you have already admitted as much to yourself."

The prince snorted. He fidgeted with his purple tunic a moment, then folded his arms over his broad chest. Elvir narrowed his blue eyes, glaring at his mother. "Perhaps that has less to do with her actual ability to perform her job, and more to do with the way she...performs upon the dragon."

Kathlyn set the watering can down and straightened up. Her own deep azure eyes flashed in anger. "Don't you even start, Elvir. Alia has been belittled enough today."

"How am I belittling her?" Elvir grit his teeth, not backing down. "You heard her admit it herself. She has..." His face twisted up in disgust as he forced himself to spit out the words. "She has sex with that dragon. It's revolting."

"It has nothing to do with you," Kathlyn said, waving her hand at the city below. "And I shouldn't have anything to do with them, either. Armadine had no right whatsoever to bring that up, regardless of the truth of it. It held no bearing upon his case, and served only to humiliate the poor girl. Which proves my point about him."

"I would argue it does have bearing," Elvir said, though his voice softened. "If the only reason she's actually succeeded at this job is because she's whoring herself to this dragon."

Kathlyn shook her finger in Elvir's face, fighting the urge to slap him. "Then by that logic your implication is that she has also been whoring herself out to every butcher, servant master, engineer, woodworker, and everyone else whom she has procured services from since the moment she took office. Given that she's reduced contract rates in all areas, and has somehow found a way to save this country money despite actually doing more to benefit and placate her prisoner than any previous warden." As Kathlyn spoke her voice rose steadily. Her cheeks flushed hot, her eyes grew darker till the usually placid azure hue nearly a stormy purple. "Is that your implication, my son? Shall we go and visit them one by one, and ask them if they've cut us better rates because Alia Silverrain has let them bend her over their desk? Because if that is a genuine suspicion of yours I feel we should address it immediately."

"Point taken, mother," Elvir said, backing down a little.

"You should read Enric's reports," Kathlyn insisted, her voice still hot. "In fact, you are to read them. All of them."

"Mother..."

"Tonight."

"But, mother..."

"I am serious, Elvir." Kathlyn's eyes bored into her son's. "I think your personal feelings have been clouded long enough. You have heard me give evidence on her behalf, but I wish you to read the reports themselves. I shall have them sent to your desk immediately." She summoned over one of the guards, and gave him instructions to do just that. "I do not care what you think of the woman, nor do I care what you think of her actions with the dragon as they occur in private. But Alia will be returning to her Warden Office long before I have returned from my journey to the Twenty Fourth province. During which time you shall be acting King, and I want you to understand just why she has been given the job permanently. I hardly expect you to embrace her or call her friend, but I have every expectation that you will respect her as Warden and the job she is doing. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mother," Elvir muttered sounding more like a child being punished than a prince being given an order. "I still don't think it's right what she does."

"No, I'm sure you don't," Kathlyn said, sighing. Some of her anger began to abate, and she squeezed her son's shoulder a moment. "Nor will I ask you too. I would simply ask you to respect the woman and her office, and to consider the fact that her private life is none of your concern."

"I wonder if you would feel differently if not for Krek," Elvir said softly. He meant it not as an insult, but as something for his mother to consider.

Kathlyn scowled a little bit. She released the prince's shoulder, and moved to sit upon a shady bench beneath a willow tree that took up a large spot in her garden. She leaned back against the bench and gave a little sigh. "I rather doubt that I would feel her private life or what she did in it was my business if I had never met the gryphon. But if I would have, than that is yet another reason for me to thank the Gods for bringing us together." She glanced up at her son, giving him a long look. "The first reason of course, is still you."

Elvir frowned, knitting his brows together. He hated when she brought that up in this discussion. It seemed so utterly unfair of her. Any time he suggested she cut off her unnatural dalliance with the creature once and for all, she inevitably reminded him that not only had the gryphon saved her life, but Elvir's life as well. After all, he'd still been in her belly at the time.

"You know I will always be grateful to the gryphon for saving you, Mother, and by extension me." Elvir joined her on the bench, settling in next to his mother. "I just wish he had done so without...luring you to some sort of...lurid, unnatural affair."

Kathlyn chuckled to herself. "He hardly lured me into anything, Elvir."

"And a creature of a different species who is hardly ever around, hardly makes a suitable father figure growing up." Elvir folded his arms, looking off through the garden.

"That isn't what this is about, and we both know it." Kathlyn folded her hands in her lap, staring at them. Her throat tightened a little. There were days she wished ever so much she had done better by her son. Days she felt as though she'd failed him somehow. Elvir's father died before he'd been born, and though there had been other men in Kathlyn's life after him, it was always...It was always Krek she came back to, despite the secrecy that surrounded them. "I am...sorry, though. For the way things worked out."

Elvir turned his eyes to his mother, his expression softening when he caught her blinking away a tear or two. "I know, mother. But even to this day, regardless of how you may feel about the..." He tried not to spit the word out like poison, if only to spare his mother's feelings. "Bird." It wasn't that he hated Krek, how could he after all the bird had done for them? He simply hated what he felt Krek had done to his mother. "...Surely there are other men you could turn to for companionship. What about Paulson?" Elvir gently nudged his mother. "I always liked him, even when I was a child."

Kathlyn chuckled and gave a little sigh. She smiled wistfully for a moment. "Yes, Paulson is a good man. A very good man. But...the heart wants what it wants, my love. And Krek has meant so much to me over the years..."

"Then you should listen to him this time," Elvir said with sudden sharpness.

"Hmm?" Kathlyn didn't catch his meaning at first. She was too lost in her own thoughts to realize that her son had finally broached the subject he'd really come here to discuss. "What do you mean?"

Elvir put his hand atop Kathlyn's, squeezing it. "You should not go on this journey. The gryphon opposes it wholeheartedly. As much as he and I may have our disagreements, I trust his judgment. He knows more about this sort of thing than almost anyone. If he thinks it is too dangerous for you to make this trip right now, then for once he and I are in complete agreement."

"Ah," Kathlyn murmured, leaning back against her chair. "I suspected you would have some objections."

"Some objections?" Elvir perked his brows, trying not to laugh at the understated nature of that. "If objections were a resource that could be counted, I would have all of them, Mother. Krek left me documents detailing his fears, Mother, and you know how much he hates to let me in on any of his secrets. So you know how strongly he must feel about this. I must assume you know he fears a dragon is going to try and kill you?"

"Someone is always trying to kill me, Elvir," Kathlyn said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "And at this moment, Krek himself is off trying to find out if there is truth to this rumor or not. And if there is, he will do what he can to stop it."

"What does that mean?" Elvir ran a hand back over his head. "Don't tell me he's going to try and find this dragon and talk them out of it."

"Krek is good at that sort of thing."

"He's also good at pissing people off." Elvir growled a little, then held his hand up towards his mother. "Krek is not the point. You are the point. You need to stay home until this is all sorted out."

"And if it is never sorted out?"

"Then...you..."

"I cannot hide in the castle, Elvir." Kathlyn smoothed out her dress against her knees, sighing. "You know as well as I that Illandra is at risk of collapse. Not immediately, but in the near future. If not in my lifetime, then certainly in yours. All the sins we have committed as conquerors are hanging over our heads, my son. We can work to absolve them, or we can let them crush us as they have crushed so many empires in the past."

"I understand your obsession with history, mother, and I know you want to do the right thing. But what good are you going to do anyone if you get yourself killed on some hare-brained attempt to free a province that is likely to be profoundly ungrateful anyway?"

Kathlyn only chuckled. "You won't want to hear this, but you sound just like..."

"Don't say it," Elvir snorted.

Kathlyn said it anyway. "...Krek. He said almost the same things to me when he tried to talk me out of going. Only, he framed it in such a way as to ensure that I believed in myself, in my own ideas. He helped me confirm that this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do."

"Of course he did," Elvir said, bitterly folding his arms. "At least wait for him to return. I saw that you already had his armor laid out and waiting. At least have him there to protect you."

"I am waiting long as I dare, my love." Kathlyn leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "I have appointments with Aran'alia that I will risk endangering if I do not leave within a week or two. Krek knows my route, and his wings are far swifter than any horse. He will catch up soon enough."

"And if it is too late? If...If you are..." Elvir couldn't bring himself to say it. Saying it out loud would make it seem all the more real.

"Then I will pray for you, my son. And I will pray for this country, that you will do the right thing."

"You cannot pray if you are dead, Mother." Elvir grit his teeth, his throat tightening. Damn it. He didn't even want to think about that.

"You know what I mean," Kathlyn said softly. "If worst comes to worst, I hope that you will follow the right path. Do not let your heart be clouded by anger, or the poison your misguided friends spew. I know what they would tell you to do, and I also know that this country cannot afford another war now. If the worst happens, and you decide to take revenge by leading us into war, then our enemies will join the fray against us. And you will be leading Illandra into ruin."

"Then let us hope it does not come to that."

"If it does," Kathlyn said softly. She reached out and gently took Elvir's hand between both of her own, squeezing it. "Then I believe in you, Elvir. I believe in your heart you truly know what is right. I believe you will make the right choice."

Elvir sighed, and slowly leaned his head against his mother. He closed his eyes. "Just...promise me you'll be safe, Mother."

Kathlyn kissed her son on the head, squeezing his hand. "I shall do my very best."

---

Chapter Five

---

Krek marveled as Valaranyx flew. Valar's wings stretched only as far as comfort would allow as the young dragon soared over rocky bluffs and craggy foothills. His flight was not graceful, and he could not soar and glide as smoothly as other dragons. Yet to Krek, Valar's flight was no less a thing of beauty and strength.

For several days Valar lead Krek through the skies until at last they were nearing the place where Kylaryn dwelled. Krek could have outpaced the dragon easily and yet he hung back out of respect for his oldest friend. Not that the gryphon was looking forward to reaching their destination. This was not going to be a happy reunion for Valar and his mother. Krek just hoped it did not end in bloodshed.

Yet whatever was to come, Krek was happy to cherish what time he had left with Valar. Krek would have followed Valar anywhere if Valar but asked him. In all the great world, Kathlyn was the only one Krek respected as much as Valar. The gryphon relished the chance to watch his friend fly again. Krek was happy to let Valar lead him the entire trip just so he could watch the black and blue dragon fly.

Strange that such ungainly flight could be such a thing of beauty. Krek could hardly imagine overcoming such an injury. Every time Valar beat his wings it must have hurt and yet the pain rarely showed on the young dragon's face. To have the very way he moved altered forever at such a young age was something Krek could scarcely understand. The gryphon sometimes thought that Valar must take to the skies by sheer willpower alone. If Valar ever lost his wings entirely Krek was sure he'd still find a way to convince the wind to carry him aloft.

The strength and determination Krek saw in Valar's golden, silver flecked eyes was a thing of wonder. From the moment they had first met it was something that fascinated the gryphon. Something that he would grow to model himself after. It had altered the very course of his life, and in time, the course of Kathlyn's life. He doubted Valar would ever take credit for it, though. For a dragon, Valar was remarkably humble. So long as the topic was not his sexual prowess, but Krek could hardly blame him for bragging about that.

Krek blinked, images playing through his mind as he flew. The gryphon could never forget the day he met Valar. How he'd flown loops around that young, seemingly crippled dragon. How Krek had taunted Valar as he took from the dragon and his human friends. He'd taken from those humans many times before the dragon finally came to try and stop him. A lot of good that first attempt had done Valar and his allies. About as much good as the alliance that Krek had made with that group of thieves in the first place. Of course Krek never would have thought a crippled dragon could track him down after all that. Krek smirked, then winced, rubbing the old scar on his chest.

Valar glanced back at him, calling out over the winds. "We're almost there." Then he spotted Krek's paw upon the gray scar that marked his chest. "Stop thinking so negatively, Krek!"

Krek only smiled. "I wasn't." He tucked his paw up against his body, banking to the left when Valar began to do the same. Wind rustled all his long black and silver edged flight feathers. "Just old memories. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful a sight it is to watch you fly!"

"I rather doubt that," Valar said with a laugh, turning himself in the air in a slightly ungainly fashion. "You sound like my mother, when I was younger. She used to tell me there was nothing more beautiful than watching me fly."

"I know," Krek said, laughing. "You've told me that many times. She and I used to agree about that." Not the only thing they used to agree on. Krek sighed to himself, beating his wings a few times to fly up alongside Valar. "Things were a lot simpler back then."

"Maybe," Valar said, glancing over, his golden eyes slightly glazed by his flight membranes. "Or maybe it just seems that way. She was always plotting something, even back then. She just had her children to worry about first." He flicked his spined tail towards his friend's tufted one. "She thought I was an idiot for taking a gryphon as a friend."

"And here I thought she was proud of you for saving me," Krek said with a little laugh.

"Oh she was!" Valar grinned at his friend. "Very proud! She just thought I should have slapped you on your feathered ass and sent you on your way as soon as you were healed."

"You did one of those things," Krek called back, laughing. He flexed his silver edged wings a little, banking away. "I think she just didn't like seeing me outwit you all the time!"

"That might be true, if that had ever happened!"

Krek smiled to himself, flaring out his wings a little to slow down. As Valar retook the lead Krek gazed out across the lands they traversed. The sun was sinking ever lower towards the mountains in the distance. The dragon and gryphon now flew above a wild land whose name was as lost as the empire that once governed it. Whatever the place was once called it had long since collapsed into little more than a collection of scattered city-states that speckled the rugged, often inhospitable landscape.

Up ahead of them, a city lay nestled against the rugged, gray mountains and the red stone bluffs interspersed amongst them. There was a fan shaped sprawl of buildings and streets that spread out through the foothills and into the flatter lands beyond. A verdant blue river cut a serpentine line through rocky bluffs above and thick forests beyond the city. A single road stretched out from the city and soon rose and fell across the gentlest section of hills and slopes beyond. Even at a distance, Krek could see that much more of the city was actually carved into the mountains themselves. Buildings were cut into the stone in terraced levels well up into the mountain. The stone work was ancient yet very well maintained by the current inhabitants.

Krek had heard the place referred to as the City Of Stairs in some of the secrets he'd gathered over the years. It seemed a fitting moniker. Such an impressive city might once have been the capital of that long vanished empire though there were likely few scholars left who knew for certain. Still, it made suitable location for a successful city-state.

Further up into the mountains stood what was left of the citadel that long ago stood guard over the terraced city. It looked as though it was once a very impressive place. A towering and imposing fortress carved directly into the mountainside, built to be nearly impenetrable in case of invasion. Many centuries later much of it was falling into ruin. Several once-elegant towers carved in peaks of stone had long since collapsed, marking the mountainside with immense, ring-shaped debris. Trees grew from old windows cut in the rock, their trunks gnarled and twisted against the stone window frames. Hills of broken stone scree were all that remained of what had once been the old castle's entry point and courtyard.

Yet above all that remained a fairly impressive castle. Several sections remained mostly intact, including the large central keep carved from the mountain's granite heart and two smaller structures on either side of it. Recently constructed walkways spanned the area between the three buildings. As they drew near enough for Krek's sharp vision to make out finer details, the gryphon realized some of the stone windows in the mountain had wooden shutters. He saw doors at the ends of the walkways, as well, and he saw movement along one of them.

"Are there people in that old broken fortress?"

"Of course," Valar said, tossing his head.

"Why are there people up there?"

"Why do you think?" Valar said, snorting. "To help repair the damn place, of course."

"But how did they get all the way up there?" He clacked his beak. "Are there still tunnels and things leading up there? I guess the citadel isn't as ruined as it looks."

"My mother likes to hide things in plain sight," Valar muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Valar snorted, snapping his jaws. "She prefers it look ruined when it is in fact, nearly impenetrable. The entry hall and courtyard are gone, which makes it nearly impossible to reach on foot. There are tunnels, yes, but the average Illandran would think the place impossible to enter without wings. Which is half the idea. The other half is that while it may seem ready to collapse, she's had enough structural engineers in there to tell her it's safe for her family." Valar waved his paw. "It's carved out of a damn mountain. Most of the place is inside, anyway."

"Are you telling me your mother has put her lair inside a fortress carved into a mountain?"

"You know, for a bird who claims to know just about everything, you sure don't seem to know where my mother lives."

Krek ruffled his feathers, not that Valar could tell with the way the wind was flattening them out. "I knew she lived out here. I didn't know she'd decided to move into a castle."

"It's just a fancy cave, really," Valar said dismissively. "I lived in plenty of caves growing up, after we fled Sigil Stones. You know that. Besides, what is a house if not a cave made of wood? This one's just a lot bigger, and harder to conquer."

"And carved by men instead of nature," Krek grumbled. "Still, an impressive lair she's taken to keeping."

"Headquarters," Valar said, a sneer creeping into his voice. "That would be her headquarters."

"Ah," Krek swallowed, glancing down at the city they were quickly approaching. All around the city checkered stretches of farmland covered the hills where the forests were cleared away ages ago to construct homes and make room for crops. "So what is this place called, anyway?" Then he amended himself. "I mean, I realize it is often called the City Of Stairs, but what do the locals call it? I don't want to hear whatever silly dragon name you've given it like, Mountain House."

Valar began to subtly descend towards the city. "The locals call it Amira."

Krek cocked his head, following Valar as he slowly descended. "I've heard that before."

"I'm sure you have. My mother didn't exactly move here yesterday, you know."

"No," Krek said, chuckling. "But once she knew about Kathlyn and I, I was hardly a welcome guest."

"No," Valar said. "You were not. Which is why we are descending."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know who's here right now. If my siblings see you in the skies, they might think you're following me." Valar blinked, then glanced back. "I mean, you are following me, but they may think you are doing so without my permission. Or they might just want a chance to strike at the Wings of Illandra while they have the chance." Valar glared at his friend a moment. "So we'll land, I'll roar, we'll see who's around, and then you'll follow me nice and meek up to the citadel. Unless mother's in the town instead."

"Is she often in town?"

"She lived in the town a while, before she took to the citadel. Before she decided the city needed a new headquarters."

"Who rules this city-state, anyway?"

Valar began to laugh. He shook his head a little. Krek really didn't know as much as he thought. "My mother."

Krek made a face as they swept in low over the outer wall around the city. Armored soldiers patrolled along the broad walkway that spanned it. Tall, well fortified stone watchtowers marked the wall at evenly spaced increments. Krek counted at least four archers with their arrows trained on the black gryphon as he flew past them. Heavy bells tolled in the distance, their calls soon echoed by others. Krek grit his beak. He had not expected a warm welcome but perhaps this was one of those times where he stretched his own cleverness a little too thin.

"So does that make you one of this city's rulers, as well?" Krek called out, teasing his friend.

"Yes," Valar said in clipped reply.

"Oh," Krek said. He hadn't really expected that answer. "Then why haven't you moved here with your family? You could patch things up with your mother."

Valar seemed to ignore the question as he flew over the city. Now that they were flying right over the top of it Krek could see the city was larger than he'd first realized. The lower city that spanned out across the ground seemed to be comprised of an even mixture of old stone buildings and much more modern wooden buildings. The main streets were all lined with shops and smithies belching smoke, taverns and restaurants and inns that likely catered mostly to traveling merchants and traders from the other city-states. Valar flew straight down the main street, and a few people passing below called out greetings. Krek didn't hear the dragon's name used, but clearly the people here recognized Valar despite his limited visits. Krek also suspected the town was on friendly terms with just about any visiting dragon.

Valar alighted upon one of the wide circular plazas that served as hubs throughout the city. Rather than cobblestone, the plaza was paved in a multitude of wide flagstones. The flagstones held a variety of colors and from above it was clear that they formed an image that spanned across the plaza. That image was a flight of dragons that looked as though they were circling around the open court, offering protection. Krek landed a little ways behind Valar, glancing around. The plaza was quickly emptying out as the warning bells tolled, but that didn't stop a few people from calling out to Valar before they vanished indoors.

"They seem to like your kind here," he murmured, scratching idly at one of the flagstones.

"They like my kind in Denoria," Valar grumbled, turning around to glare at Krek. Krek thought the dragon was going to ignore his earlier question, but it seemed it weighed heavier on Valar's mind than expected. "Why should I wish to drag my mate and daughter away from the peaceful home they love? We are happy there. I have no desire to rule anyone. You think I want to sit around on my tail all day, counting coins and appropriating trade agreements with neighboring states? Or subject my daughter to calls for revenge and talk of war? I live where I live, Krek, because it is peaceful there. I have seen what war and revenge bring about, and I want nothing to do with that. You think I want my daughter to go through what I went through?" Valar bared his fangs, flaring up his spines. "The fact my mother lied to me about my father's fate is not the only reason I scarcely speak to her. My mother presses on with this pointless war. Look around you, Krek. Look at the symbols. This is not the place I wish to raise my daughter."

Valar snorted, and turned away. He took a few limping steps away from Krek, towards the center of the plaza. Krek slowly gazed around them. The plaza was ringed by old stone buildings kept in good condition throughout the many centuries they had stood. There were clothing shops, vendors of good and furniture for the home, bakeries, a smithy, a bank, and a branch of the Amira Trade Ministry. Though the buildings themselves were made of heavy blocks of drab granite, they were all adorned with colorful banners and flags. Strings of blue streamers were stretched between some of the buildings. Ancient oak, pine and aspen trees grew up around some of the buildings, with benches hewn from their boughs beneath them. Highly colorful murals adorned the walls of some of the buildings. There were images of children at play, of dragons circling in the skies, of green hills with stone spires and fanciful, silvery rain drops.

Krek blinked. He took a few steps towards the building. The plaza was nearly deserted now as the tolling bells sent people indoors. There were wooden stalls and stands set up, but none of them held goods at the moment. Dark haired people peered out at the gryphon from windows, but flicked the shutters closed when he glanced their way.

Krek peered at a banner. It was blue, with a silvery raindrop emblazoned upon it. The raindrop held an odd, stylized shape. The bottom of the raindrop was unusually crescent shaped like the blade of an axe. Then it clicked in Krek's mind. He looked around. There were banners with that symbol on them everywhere. There were other banners as well that held a different symbol with the same meaning. A slightly curved, bright silver blade embossed upon a black flag speckled with a hundred points of white light.

"Death In The Night," Krek murmured to himself.

Valar's sharp ears still picked it up. "Yes. Amira has become the closet thing they have to a home. This is where they live while they plot to take back Aran'alia. This whole city is Death In The Night. It is a festering bed of anger directed at your Queen's home. That is why I want no part in ruling it, nor will I ever move my family here. We will stay in Denoria where it is quiet, and peaceful, and the people do not nourish themselves on misguided hatred."

"That explains why everyone is staying indoors right now," Krek said, folding his wings against his body. He slowly moved to stand closer to Valar as though he feared getting an arrow in his throat. "It sounds as though the warning bells have tapered off, though."

"They have done their job. Everyone has taken shelter already." He turned his head to smirk at the gryphon. "That way, when my kin come to kill you on behalf of Death In The Night, no innocents will be harmed."

Krek shivered a little, ruffling up his feathers. "I am starting to think this may not have been our wisest idea."

Valar growled under his breath. "So am I. But no one has come to greet us, so they are waiting to see what we do. Probably wondering if I've come to hand you over to them as a spy."

"That isn't funny," Krek said, clacking his beak.

"It wasn't meant to be," Valar said sharply. "If my brother and sister or anyone else try to harm or capture you, fly. You can out fly everyone here and I expect you to do it. Do not give them a chance to surround you, or drag you to the ground."

"You really think they would do that to me?" Krek tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. He hadn't always gotten along that well with Valar's siblings, but then again, they'd never really disliked each other, either. "Even after all the years you and I have shared friendship?"

"I do not think they would harm you without provocation, no," Valar said, but he lifted a paw, unsheathing a single claw in warning. "But as far as they are concerned, you are a highly valuable servant of Illandra. And there is no telling what ideas might be creeping around their heads these days. Any friendship you held with them was severed when you took up Illandra's cause."

"I did not take up-"

Valar cut him off with a snap of his jaws. "In the mind of my mother, and her mate, and my siblings, you did. And right now, that is all that matters. Now cover your ears, you sensitive songbird."

Krek flopped back onto his haunches, grumbling. "Should have worn my damn armor."

"You have armor?" Valar smirked.

"Yes, and I look magnificently sexy in it." Krek grinned, and pressed his front paws over his ears.

Valar took a deep breath then tipped his head back to the sky and roared. The powerful, primal sound echoed out across the city for long moments. When it faded, there was an answering roar from the west. Then another from where the city was carved into terraced roads and levels far up the mountain. Then a louder roar rang out above the others, echoing down from the high keep that kept watch over everything.

Krek tilted his head back towards the skies. The sun had vanished behind the clouds that drifted above the mountains, and the city was cast in purple-hued shadows. Soon several dark silhouettes passed before the sunlit clouds, spiraling in the sky a few times. Then they tightened up, flying alongside each other as they began to descend towards the city. The two dragons soon broke away from each other again. One of them began a slower, spiraling descent while the other entered into a steep dive straight for the plaza where Krek and Valar stood.

Valar motioned with a paw. "Stand right alongside me, Krek. At my good side." He snapped his jaws. "Now."

Krek did not hesitate. He moved to stand next to the dragon, close enough for feathers to brush scales. "Is this so they remember I'm you're friend?"

Valar snorted, flaring out his wing and wrapping it over Krek's back. "This is so my brother cannot end his dive by pinning you under his claws."

Krek gave a little growl. "Valar, if your brother attacks me..."

"You will not draw his blood unless it is a last resort," Valar cautioned the gryphon. "And then you will get away as fast as you can. Under no conditions are you to stay and fight no matter happens, unless you want four dragons to tear you apart and make trophies of those silver-edged wings."

"I thought you said they weren't likely to harm me?"

"Blood for Blood, Krek," Valar said softly. "If you draw theirs, they will draw yours."

"What if they draw mine first?" Valar did not answer, and Krek hissed through his beak. "I will defend myself if I must, Valar. You would think your family would have already learned what that particularly draconic tenant leads to."

"My mother would not allow harm to her children to go unpunished," Valar said simply. "And when my father followed Blood For Blood to its inevitable end, I was the only one of my siblings yet alive to learn from it."

Krek gave a long sigh. He nuzzled up against Valar's neck, unashamedly pressing himself to his friend. The dragon felt strong, and Krek took comfort in that. The gryphon would not want to admit just how painfully hard his heart was beating. Arrogant as Krek could be, he knew that the odds in battle with a dragon were not in his favor. Though his chances would be better if he bore his armor, he was at least confident he could best a single young dragon in battle in the sky. However upon the ground things would be much harder. He had learned that lesson first hand long ago.

Krek panted a little as he peered up at the dragon diving at them. The sun broke through the clouds just in time to paint the young dragon's bronze body a golden shade. The blue speckles and splotches that marked his body stood out almost as much as the sky blue socks that covered each of his paws. He was younger than Valar, and smaller as well. The bronze dragon's body was still a little wiry and lean, yet nonetheless Valar's half brother was still much bigger than the last time Krek saw him. In a way it was a strange thing for Krek to see. The gryphon had long since finished growing, yet here it was many years later and Valar's younger sibling was yet to reach his full size.

"It strikes me, Valar," Krek said, his panting getting heavier, thin tongue peeking from his beak now and then. "That the last time I saw your brother he called me a Stink-Bird. So I pushed him down and sat on him till he took it back. I fear at the time I did not consider the fact that someday he was going to be larger than me. You don't suppose he's forgotten that, do you?"

"No," Valar said, licking his friend's cheek. "I don't. But it'll be alright. You've come here with peaceful intent to discuss matters of importance with my mother. More importantly, you've come here with me."

"I don't suppose your mother would forgive me if I preemptively punched him in the balls, do you?" Krek cracked a smile, making a joke as much to relieve his own tension as anything else.

"She might, but he wouldn't," Valar said, smirking. Then the smirk dropped from his muzzle. "Now be quiet, and ready yourself just in case. We shall see what intent my brother has."

---

Chapter Six

---

Krek ruffled up his ebony feathers nervously, and took a deep breath. He held it for a moment, pulling all his fear inside himself. A trick he'd learned from Kathlyn that he'd taken to heart. It did not matter how frightened you were. It only mattered how frightened you appeared to be. Krek slowly pulled the emotion from his face. He held his head high, narrowing his green eyes a little. He perked up his ears, and flared out his silver crown feathers. He even twisted his beak into a smirk as though he just couldn't wait to push the bronze dragon down and settle himself upon his chest again.

The young dragon dove straight at Valar and Krek until it was nearly too late to avoid a dangerous collision. At the last moment, he threw open bronze wings edged with blue speckles, pulling away from the two of them. He roared, and spat flame into the sky above the two visitors as if angry that he hadn't intimidated his brother, or the gryphon. With heat still boiling in the air from the burst of fire, the young dragon dropped to the ground a little ways away. Flaring up all his spines, the blue-marked bronze dragon closed the distance with a charge. He skidded to a stop just in front of Valar and Krek. He lashed his tail angrily, spines scratching at the flagstones. He slashed his paw in the air, claws threatening close to Krek's face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Half-Brother?" He snapped his teeth in front of Valar's nose. "I haven't seen you in ages, Mother frets about you constantly and you have to go and spoil your visit by dragging our enemy into our home?"

"I am not your enemy," Krek said, glaring at the other dragon.

"Quiet Stink-Bird or I'll slap that smirk off your beak." He hissed at the gryphon, tensing up.

"Hello to you too, Brother," Valar said, a smirk of his own crossing his muzzle. "I brought Krek here because I wish him to talk to mother. Whether you know it or not, she is planning something terrible. Her actions will help no one, and they certainly will not help further your cause."

"It is your cause too," the bronze dragon hissed at Valar. Then he softened his tone, narrowing his eyes. "What is she planning?"

"If she has not told you, it is not my place to speak of it on her behalf. Will you take us to see her?" Valar tilted his head, then inclined it towards the keep far up atop the mountains. "Or shall we go on our own?"

"Why don't you just send the bird? I'd be curious to see who beats the feathers off him first. Mother or Father."

"They're both here, then?" Valar tilted his head.

"Where else would they be?"

Valar took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I don't know, Voskyr, I haven't been here in ages."

"Well, who's fault is that?" Voskyr flicked his spined tail.

"Our mother's." Valar glared at his half brother, flaring his spines a little.

"Oh, Valar, let it go," Voskyr said, pushing his head forward till his nose brushed Valar's. "You're clinging to that anger just as badly as you would say she clings to hers."

"Surprisingly insightful, actually," Krek murmured, brushing a wing against Valar's side. "You should listen to your brother."

"Half-brother," the two male dragons said nearly in unison. Then Voskyr turned his glare to the gryphon. "Though I appreciate your support, Stink-Bird. And I admire your balls in daring to come here."

"You always did admire my balls," Krek said, clacking his beak. "Now, we really must see your mother."

"Before my sister arrives to greet you?" Voskyr tossed his head, snorting and flaring his blue-speckled spines. "I think not."

"So Valar is the only one you call your half-sibling? I hadn't realized you reserved that indignity for him." Krek slipped out from under Valar's wing a little bit. "That doesn't seem very friendly of you."

"We had the same father who raised us," Voskyr said, glancing over at Valar. "He was the one always pining for someone he barely knew."

Valar growled low in his throat, narrowing his golden, silver-flecked eyes. "I knew him better than you think."

"Perhaps. Though I sometimes think you must have invented half those memories." Voskyr snorted, glancing up at the sky to where his sister was lazily spiraling towards the ground. "You were still awfully young when he abandoned you and our mother, after all."

Krek turned his green gaze to Valar, expecting him to raise an objection. It often seemed like Valar was happy enough to suggest his father abandoned them, but should anyone else suggest the same he took offense. Yet for the moment Valar lacked the energy to argue that. Krek turned a little to nuzzle comfortingly at Valar's neck. The gryphon suspected Valar was saving his energy to argue with his mother.

Valar was quiet a few moments. Ignoring Voskyr's bait, he watched his younger sister sweep in low over an empty road beyond the plaza. Even at a distance, her colors were very familiar. In many ways she was nearly the opposite of Valar. Her body was shades of blue, mostly paler than those of her mother. And where Valar had blue socks and blue markings on his snout and wings, his sister bore similar marks and patterns in black. Valar narrowed his eyes as his sister touched down upon the empty street. She bore a rider upon her back. A black haired woman with a brown cloak edged in what looked like a pattern of green leaves. The rider hopped down, patted the dragon's shoulder and vanished into a nearby building.

Valar licked his nose, and returned his attention to his half-brother. "Does everyone think we're going to fight? I've never seen this city so empty."

"Us?" Voskyr shook his head, chuckling. "No." He rustled his bronze wings a little. "Him?" Then he inclined his head towards the black gryphon. "That's a different story. If he'd come here alone..."

"I am not that foolish," Krek said sharply, flaring out his silver edged wings a little as he stepped away from Valar.

"And yet here you are," Voskyr said, unsheathing a few claws and waving them at the gryphon. "With only my half-brother to prevent us from capturing the Wings Of Illandra and putting you on display. It was wiser for us to give the signal for everyone to stay indoors rather than take any chances."

"I come with peaceful intent," Krek said, lifting up his crown feathers. "And that is a rather silly moniker you have given me. I serve more than just..."

Voskyr snapped his jaws, cutting the gryphon off with a snarl. "Your peaceful intent may change if we decide to prevent you from leaving."

"You will not even think about harming him," Valar growled, neck spines rising as he stepped towards his brother. Voskyr growled back at him, turning to face the other dragon. Soon their pebbly scaled, blue marked noses were nearly touching yet it was not a friendly gesture. Valar gave a little snarl. "He is here as my guest, and he will leave as my guest."

"Perhaps," Voskyr said, glaring into Valar's eyes. "Perhaps not. We shall see what our mother decides."

A female voice called out. "If you males are going to fight again, at least wait for me to get there." The female dragon laughed to herself as she approached the others. "I should like to watch this time!"

Krek bristled his feathers. That female had entirely too much cheer in her voice for his liking. Just the way he remembered Kylyra. Nonetheless if this was her attempt to diffuse the growing tension, Krek was happy to try and help. "Kylyra, you should only like to watch so you can yell for them to get each other in the balls!"

"Yes," the female dragon said as she padded towards them. "I should."

Krek ground his beak as the two male dragons scarcely seemed to notice the new arrival. Valar and Voskyr remained nearly snout-to-snout, spines flared all around their heads. Valar had always been larger than his half brother, and now that he was full grown the differences stood out all the more. Yet Voskyr was at the age where he'd fight anything no matter his chances. Krek couldn't recall the dragon's term for it. Something about nuts and teeth, was it?

Even before they'd matured Voskyr and Valar had a history of rivalry that sometimes turned violent. At best the half-brothers were often held an uneasy sort of friendship. They loved each other, Krek was sure. The gryphon was also sure they had differences that were difficult for anyone to bridge, let alone angry dragons. Not that Krek could blame them. Much as the gryphon hated to admit it a lot of that tension was probably on Valar's part. Despite Voskalar's best efforts Valar often felt as though he'd grown up without a father. And by the time Valar himself was at the age where adolescent anger came far too easy, he was watching Voskalar teach his own son to fly. Meanwhile Valar's father was in Kathlyn's dungeon.

Just as the two males bared their fangs, the blue scaled female dragon suddenly pushed her way between them. First she stuck her black-marked muzzle directly between their snouts to force them apart. Then she took several long strides forward until she was standing directly between the two male dragons with a black-edged azure wing half draped over each snout.

"If you boys are going to stare at something, at least stare at something prettier than yourselves."

Valar snorted, but cracked a smile again as he pulled his wedge shaped head back. He gave the black-edged wing a lick. "Hello, Kylyra."

Kylyra smiled, and made a show of turning all the way around to face Valar. In the process, she bumped her haunches up against her younger half-brother, forcibly shoving Voskyr out of the way. He stumbled and yelped and growled, only to yelp a second time when Kylyra smacked him on the snout with her tail. The female dragon grinned at Valar, her own small spines flared up in a show of smug amusement rather than aggression. Black markings tipped her pale blue snout, and the golden flecks in her silver eyes sparkled with wicked mirth. Valar always saw his father reflected in those golden specks.

"Hello, Brother." Kylyra sniffed at Valar's nose, and then gave him a lick. "I have missed you! Can you not see fit to come and see us more often than the occasional visit by Stink-Bird over there?"

Krek squawked and ruffled up his feathers in indignation. "What, you too? At least come up with your own insults."

Kylyra smirked over at the gryphon, cocking her sky blue head. "How about Small-Balls?"

"That sounds more suitable, I think," Valar said, grinning at his friend a moment.

Krek made a show of hanging his head and splaying his wings around himself as if hiding from his shame. "Whole damn family's got a tongue like a knife."

Valar grinned, and then nosed his sister. He licked her muzzle, and when she tilted her head back he licked her chin as well. Then Valar gave a nearly-gryphon sounding squawk of his own when Kylyra surprised him. She surged forward to push forcefully against him. When he stumbled a little she wrapped her forelegs around his body and soon followed suit with her wings. A heavy, rumbling purr built up in the dragoness' throat as she hugged him, and soon Valar was hugging her in return.

"Alright, alright," Valar said, laughing as he worked his own wings around his sister, one of them a little more completely than the other. "I missed you too, Kyly!"

"Promise?" Kylyra pulled her head back, her black neck curling a little.

"Yes, I promise," Valar said, licking at her throat, unable to stop smiling. "My home is always open to you, you know. You need not wait for me to visit, you can come and visit us, as well. Aylyryn and Ayly would love to see you. You should see Ayly, she's getting so big already. And she's already claimed her first gryphon!"

"Has she then!" Kylyra explained in mock pride, turning her smirk to the black bird.

Krek turned his head, preening at his shoulder. He spat out a feather. "And I've the claw marks in my back to prove it. Little brat climbed me like a tree!"

Kylyra laughed at that, moving back from Valar after a few more moments of hugging. "I would like to come and visit sometime. Perhaps when I'm not busy providing ferry service."

"I did see your passenger," Valar said, lowering his voice. "Someone important?"

"No one you'd like to know about, Valar," Kylyra said. She knew well enough what path her brother had chosen, and what path he had worked so hard to avoid. Then she flicked a wing tip towards the gryphon. "Nor anyone I'd talk about in front of him."

"You all make it sound as though I'm here to spy on you," Krek said, twisting his head to preen his other shoulder, near where his wing sprouted.

"You are," Voskyr said, growling softly.

Valar spoke up before the gryphon could reply, and pointedly avoided that subject. "You are welcome to visit me at my home anytime as well, Brother. For all our spats, you are still family, and I still love you. We would be very happy to host you for as long as you'd like to stay."

A half smile tugged at the corners of Voskyr's muzzle. "Thank you, Valar." He ducked his head a little in respect. "Perhaps I should wait until your daughter stops climbing people." He lifted his head again, grinning. "It seems the ideal time to visit my niece would be after she stops using her claws to scale her father's friends and family..." Then he shot his sister a glare, hissing. "But before she learns to hit balls!"

"That's sound advice," Valar said, glaring at their sister as well.

Kylyra acted as innocent as she could. She looked back and forth. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"For the same reason I plan to keep my tail tucked as tightly as I can while I visit," Valar muttered, then gave his younger sister a lick across her cheek.

"You mean because you're ashamed of your small nuts? I'm not sure why that would cause you to glare at me," Kylyra said through her purr. "Now, are you two males about done fighting?"

"Perhaps for the moment," Voskyr said.

Kylyra snorted, and turned her body partway around. She bumped her haunches forcefully against her younger sibling, grinning as he stumbled. Then she hoisted a hind paw and kicked it out a little to press it against his chest. She gave him a hard shove with her hind leg. He stumbled back again, yelping a little bit.

"Cut it out," he snapped.

"No." If you're going to cause trouble with our brother, I'm going to have to keep you two separated."

Voskyr hissed in frustration, and tried to walk around her. Kylyra simply pivoted on her paws till her haunches were in front of him again. This time she hoisted her tail a little bit and swatted him sharply on the nose with the tip of it. Voskyr yelped and grabbed at his nose with a paw, whimpering.

After a moment, he swatted her sharply on the haunch, hissing at her. "I thought I told you to cut it out!"

Kylyra simply hoisted up her tail in preparation to swat his nose with it again. "You want another one?"

Voskyr stepped back, curling his neck to pull his head away from her tail. "No. Now get your scaly ass out of my face."

That only made Kylyra laugh. She waved her haunches at her half-brother, her tail up. "You like it."

"Very funny," Voskyr said, glancing away after a moment. "Wave it in Valar's face, why don't you."

"Valar's harder to fluster than you are." Kylyra smirked her brother. "Perhaps I should wave it in the gryphon's face instead."

"By all means, my dear," Krek said with a little purr. "I shall stare for as long as you like. Though, keep that tail up too long and I might mount you as well."

"What, here in the street?" Kylyra gave a rumbling yet musical laugh, slowly lowering her tail. Then she prowled forward, pushing her blue scaled body up against Krek's black fur and feathers. "Oh, my little bird. Believe it or not, I have missed you as well." She smiled at him, pressing herself against the gryphon as she walked all the way around him. Her tail tip brushed the fur of his rump, and the back of his furry sac. She licked his ear as she completed her circle. "Have you missed me?"

Krek shivered a little, grinning at her. "Apparently not as much as I should have."

"Silly bird," she said, nipping at his neck. She walked around in front of him, hoisting her tail and shaking her haunches a moment. Krek found himself presented with a very clear view of the pink folds of her sex, standing out quite clearly amidst the pale blue scales of her underbelly, hind legs and haunches. "There is one thing you should know, Krek."

Krek found himself staring at the female dragon's sex, his sheath quickly plumping up. When she lowered her tail, and began to press herself against him again, he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He also tried to ignore the fact that Valar was smirking at him. "And what is that, my Dear?"

"Though I consider you a friend," Kylyra said, purring as she wriggled her larger blue scaled body against the gryphon's smaller black furred one. "If you have come here to make trouble, or endanger our operations? If you make a wrong move, or my mother orders your capture and you refuse to surrender?" Kylyra deftly shoved her forepaw beneath Krek's underbelly, snatching his black furred testicles in her grasp. Krek squawked and tensed up, and though Kylyra did not squeeze him he could feel her claw tips prickling his sensitive flesh. "I will make trophies out of your fuzzy little black-bird balls. Is that clear?"

"Painfully so," Krek said with a gulp. He turned his head to peer under Kylyra's tail again while he had the chance. "But my words are true. I came here only to ask your mother to reconsider the madness I fear she is about to undertake. If she refuses I will leave here without so much as unsheathing my claws."

"That is good to hear," Kylyra said, grinning. "And well spoken considering you have your eyes locked on my slit." She rolled the gryphon's orbs around in her paw, making Krek groan. "Not bad, for a bird. Perhaps if your words are as true as you say, we'll have a little fun before you leave. I assume you two are staying the night?"

"I don't know," Valar said, laughing at the look on the gryphon's beaked face. "I do not want to stay here any longer than I have too."

"Aw, mother shall be disappointed if you do not stay," Kylyra said, releasing Krek. She patted the gryphon's haunch, and then thwacked his beak with her tail tip. He squawked and flopped onto his haunches to grasp his beak. The blue-scaled female strolled past her brother, smiling. "She's had a room made up for your in the citadel, in case you ever came by. She'll ask you to reconsider, I'm sure. But, at any rate, come along. I'll take you up there before the bird decides to masturbate here in the streets."

"Are you saying it's better if I masturbate in the castle?" Krek asked, rising to his feet again.

"We'll see," Kylyra said, shaking her haunches at the gryphon.

Voskyr hissed. "Why are you taking them? I shall do it."

"Because," Kylyra said, leveling her silvery glare at her half-brother for a moment. "You've already had enough chances to try and pick a fight. Besides, Mother wants you to make sure our other guests are well taken care of."

Voskyr glanced up the street towards the building Kylyra's rider had vanished into. He twitched his tail spines, and huffed an irritable snort. Then he began to stride away from the plaza, lashing his tail. "Very well." He tossed his head, but did not look back. "Farewell Brother. Stink-bird."

"Pleasant fellow, your brother," Krek said, nudging at Valar's neck with his beak.

Valar's muzzle twisted into a little scowl. "He has his moments."

"I seem to recall him having a lot more of them when he was younger." Krek softened his tone a little, nudging Valar again.

"A lot of things have changed since we were all young, Krek." Valar flattened his spines back against his head, and sighed. "Voskyr and Kylyra follow after my mother. They believe in her, and they are not happy with the fact I have turned away from that path."

"I wonder, Valar." Krek pulled his head back, lifting his crown feathers a little. "If your mother had told you the truth about your father from the start, would you still be here, fighting her war alongside her?"

"I sometimes wonder why you pose such questions, Krek." Valar cocked his head to the side, lifting an ear. "The answers cannot be pleasant for you to think about."

Krek gave a thoughtful warble. Then lowering his head a little, he softly said, "When we consider the other paths our lives may have taken, it is easier for us to know if we walk the right road."

"Are you two going to come visit my mother, or are you going to keep trying to sound smart with your pseudo-philosophical banter?" Kylyra smirked at the two males from nearby.

"Knife like a tongue," Krek muttered. "Very well, take us to see the old girl."

Kylyra raised her blue eye ridges. "Call her old to her face and she'll mount your beak upon her wall."

"I'll give her something to mount," Krek said, flaring his wings a little.

Valar tried to hold back his laugh, bumping his body up against his friend. "Keep it up, and you'll be lucky if she leaves you anything to mount her with by the time this is over." Then he ducked his head down in a show of respect for their guide. "Now, if you'll lead the way, dear Sister?"

Kylyra smiled at Valar, spread out her wings and bounded away. The blue dragon ran across the plaza and leapt into the sky. Her vast, black-edged azure wings swept out beneath her, pulling her into the sky. A few swift wing beats carried her well above the rooftops of the buildings surrounding her sibling and his feathered friend. Valar glanced at Krek, then gestured with his head towards the sky, signaling Krek to follow. Krek did not hesitate, launching himself off of his powerful hind legs. Black wings with trailing silver feathers worked the air, hoisting the gryphon skyward.

A few moments later, and Valar ascended behind him. The young black dragon's ascent was the choppiest of the three. Where the dragoness and the gryphon rose smoothly with even strokes of their wings, Valar took to the skies in a more halting manner. Each forceful beat of the dragon's wings pulled him higher into the sky, as though he were a puppet rising a little further each time his strings were yanked. Ascending was always the hardest part for Valar but it was something he'd long since grown accustom to.

Soon, the sprawl of the lower city was stretching out beneath them in a network of houses and shops and webbing of so many streets and pathways. Valar gazed at it for a little while as he ascended, then turned his attention to the other two who shared the sky with him. Kylyra was not exactly waiting for the slower dragon to catch up. Rather she was flying swiftly towards the square citadel crowning the towering peak that kept watch over the city. The lower half of the mountain was terraced with layers and levels of streets and buildings cut into the stone itself. Blocky, sturdy looking towers stood here and there, teeming with armored watchmen. The streets in the mountainside section of Amira looked a little more busy. Distant bells tolled and a glance backwards told Valar that the lower city was coming back to life as well. It seemed the city's guards were satisfied there was not going to be violence after all.

Ahead of them loomed the central building of the citadel Kylaryn called home. Up close it was clear the place was far less of a ruin than it appeared from below. The roughly squared shaped building in the middle of the complex looked like the massive, helmeted head of the mountain itself. The many windows cut in the stone walls could easily have been a multitude of eyes peering warily at the approaching dragons. Walkways stretched from that building to those on either side of it. Some of the walkways were original stone structures, others were more recently constructed wooden spans. Both had a few guards upon them.

The guards were new. The last time Valar had been here, his mother hadn't yet had humans running around the place. Valar wondered if they were related to Krek's fears, or if they were simply here because she'd been conducting meetings with other humans she did not trust. Either way, the guards did not seem too concerned with the group approaching. Valar couldn't blame them. They knew as well as he that the dragons who dwelled in the City Of Stairs could handle a single gryphon, no matter how well trained and experienced he may be.

Kylyra lead them on until they swept over the walkways and square-cut stone buildings that rose from the mountain itself. She tucked her wings in, banking a little as she swiftly began to descend. Behind the three buildings visible from the town was a large open area that served as an inner courtyard. Ancient, gnarled pine and fir trees rose here and there from the broken ground. Their twisted forms held evidence both of howling winds, and of binds once used to secure a roof or canopy in ages long faded. Steam rose from the center of the courtyard in angry, writhing swirls. The steam originated from the hot spring that sprawled in the center of the courtyard.

Given the stone walls around it and the staircase descending into the water, it seemed the spring had once served as both bathing area, and the center of an old garden. Krek suspected they used to trap the warm steam under a roof of some sort to help keep the plants alive through the winter. The garden was long gone, but the water remained. Several wooden poles erected around it held iron rings with lanterns hanging from them. A few other poles held banners with silvery, crescent shaped raindrops and white daggers, or dragons silhouetted against a blue sky.

At the other side of the courtyard were a few more stone buildings. There were a few smaller outbuildings, and a wide, tall building towards the center. The wide building had immense, newly constructed double-doors that were painted a bright blue color. Stylized dragon wings were painted stretched across the doors, outlined in gold. Ancient Aran'alian runes ran around the edges of the doors in fanciful silver script. Even from across the courtyard it was clear those doors were designed to be worked by dragons rather than by men. Each door bore an immense lever-like handle carved from dark wood in the shape of a dragon's foreleg. On either side of the doors, massive banners were affixed to the wall. The banners themselves were silver, and each bore the head of a dragon upon them. One of them bore a female's dark blue visage, with the name of Valar's mother upon it in several languages. The other bore a male dragon's face, his pebbly scales a deep bronze hue.

Kylyra touched down near the hot springs, lashing her tail. She trotted out of the way to make room for the other two to land. Krek touched down first, glancing at the faintly bubbling hot waters. The springs tinted the air just faintly with the aroma of sulfur, but Krek would have gladly let that foul scent cling to his feathers for a chance to spend the night relaxing in the hot water. He walked to the edge of the spring and placed a paw upon the stone wall around it, peering down into the water.

"I suppose the springs are off limits to guests, hmm?"

Valar landed alongside Krek, and quickly snapped his teeth at the tuft on Krek's tail. "There's no time to bother with that, Bird."

Krek squawked, ruffled his feathers and spun around. "I suppose not. Pity your mother didn't discover this place when she and I were still on friendly terms."

"This way, boys," Kylyra said, ignoring Krek's question. She padded towards the large building with the dragon banners and colorful doors. As the two males walked behind her, she made a show of hoisting her tail up and flashing them both her slit. Valar simply snorted and shook his head, while Krek did not bother to hide his stare.

"Tease," the gryphon muttered.

"And proud of it," Kylyra said. "Besides, you're not the first guests I've had to take up here lately. Have to amuse myself somehow." Kylyra said. She came to a stop before the large doors, and carefully reached out to wrap her paw around the wooden handle. "Press the lever down and turn just a little to open the door," she instructed Krek.

"Yes, thank you, I understand how a door works."

"Oh, that's right." Kylyra depressed the lever, and gently eased the door open. It creaked a little but the heavy door slowly swung on well oiled hinges. "I forgot you're a city bird who lives in a castle and can't remember how to hunt."

"A rich city bird," Krek corrected her, grinning. "And in my castle, we can afford metal door handles."

"If we had metal door handles out here, your paw pads would freeze to them in the winter." Kylyra stepped aside to let the others enter. "And then how would you pleasure yourself after you tore your soft little gryphon paws apart?"

Krek clacked his beak as he strode past the female. "I'd mount some mouthy young dragoness."

Valar chuckled, pausing to give his sister's cheek a lick. "Thank you, Sister. If you don't mind, I think we'd like to talk to mother alone."

"I don't mind," Kylyra said with a purr. Then she gestured for Valar to walk through the door so she could close it. "Mother asked for it to be that way, anyway."

Valar wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Before he could think too hard about it, Kylyra made a show of shutting the door quickly enough to nearly smash his tail. Valar jumped a few paces forward, bumping into Krek who gave a little squawk. He kicked out with a hind paw, thumping his friend's chest plates. Valar grunted and punched the gryphon on the haunch.

"Watch it, Bird!"

"You watch it, Lizard! You're the one who bumped into me." Krek twisted around a little and carefully smoothed down some of his ruffled feathers and patches of fur.

Valar smirked at him. "Vain bird."

"Magnificence requires effort," Krek replied, finishing his grooming.

Valar didn't mind. It gave the two of them time for their eyes to adjust. There were lanterns and lamps here and there. In the distance, the crackling sound of fire could be heard. It was a bit dim deeper inside. The fiery mountain sunlight that streamed in through the windows during the day was quickly being extinguished by the waters of nightfall.

"This is her meeting hall," Valar said softly, walking forward.

"And here I thought she'd have us meet her in her sleeping quarters," Krek muttered, following after the dragon. He peered around as they walked into the sizable chamber.

Everything about the room was impressive. From the hearths at either end in the shape of immense dragon maws, to the elegant white marble railing that spiraled around the winding staircases leading to the balcony, to the many exotic rugs and carpets coating the floor in layers of color. Yet Krek soon found his attention drawn away from the room's appointments and focused squarely on Valar. The young dragon had fixed his attention on the collection of banners hanging from the balcony railings.

Krek himself had paid the banners little heed at first. He knew well enough dragons liked to have depictions of themselves to appreciate. Given the chance Krek would have banners of himself commissioned as well. Only when he caught Valar staring with wide, golden eyes at them did he realize there was something different about these banners.

Unlike the banners strewn about town, these represented specific dragons like the two at the front of the meeting hall. There were five banners total, and each depicted a different dragon. Krek recognized the blue female immediately, even without the name Kylaryn spelled out beneath it. She looked younger than Krek had ever known her to be. Her wings were spread and her head was held high in pride. Her colors were a little different, her blues a little lighter. The banner to her right clearly depicted Voskalar, though the bronze dragon was far more youthful in appearance then Krek could recall him, and he held far more brown tones on his body than he did the last time they'd met.

Krek glanced at Valar. The young black dragon was silent. Valar was staring the banner on the other side of Kylaryn. It depicted a black dragon as well, with hints of blue along his wings, and his nose. For a moment, Krek thought it was a banner of Valaranyx. The resemblance was certainly there. But the dragon in the banner did not have blue paws. Without realizing it, Valar lifted a trembling paw, holding it half outstretched towards the banner of the black dragon. Krek's breath caught when he saw the name.

Valyrym.

"Valar," Krek said softly, reaching out to his friend.

The moment Krek spoke, Valar yanked his paw out of the air and shoved it back to the ground so forcefully it must have hurt. The action made Krek wince inside. Even now, even after all of this...Valar missed his father. Krek reached out and gently rubbed Valar's shoulder, just before his wing. He moved up to nuzzle a Valar's neck a little, murmuring to him.

"It's alright, Valar," Krek said softly. "It's alright."

Valar swallowed a few times, blinking away the sudden wetness from his eyes. His voice was a rattling croak. "She...she did not have these up last time."

Krek only nodded, and nuzzled the dragon's neck again. He cooed softly into his ears. While Valar calmed him, the gryphon glanced up at the banners again. There was a green dragon, a male, and a black female with golden stripes on her limbs. Krek recognized them as Valar's aunt and uncle. Though in the banner his uncle still had a functional wing and a body that wasn't wrapped in a mass of scar tissue on one side. Krek even spotted another banner with a little black and blue hatchling with an oddly cocked wing on it. He smiled at the sight of it, but decided against teasing his friend about it. He could always tell him how adorable he looked later.

"Those must be quite old," Krek said softly.

Valar merely nodded. "They...they are from Sigil Stones. From long before my father was even captured. I had...forgotten them."

Krek stood by Valar while Valar collected himself. It did not seem to take him long. Valar took the sudden pain he felt, and twisted it into strength. "Mother!"

When there was no immediate answer, Valar hissed. Seeing those banners made him irritable on top of his already gnawing anxiety. He did not like being kept waiting. The young dragon's brassy voice bounced around the expansive chamber, echoing off stone walls and ceiling. "Mother! Voskalar! It is Valar. I have come with Krek. We must speak to you."

"We know who it is, Valar," came a soft, familiar male voice in reply. "Give your mother a moment, and she will join you soon."

Valar and Krek both turned as an older male dragon the color of a well aged bronze sculpture emerged from the wide entryway to a side room. Valar smiled, some of irritability fading at the sight of his mother's mate. He'd always liked Voskalar, and it was not the bronze's fault his mother had lied to him for so many years.

As Valar approached the older male dragon, Krek stood his ground. He was not yet sure how warmly he was going to be welcomed, and wanted to stay out of striking range just in case. Still, he smiled at Voskalar and inclined his head in a friendly enough greeting.

Valar walked up, intent on a simple greeting. He nosed the older dragon a moment. "Hello, Voskalar," Valar said softly.

Voskalar, however, would have none of Valar's simple greeting. Instead, the bronze dragon simply flopped down onto his haunches, and dragged Valar up against him in an immense, nearly crushing hug. Over the many years since Voskalar first met Valar's father, his scales had gradually changed from a nearly even mixture of bright bronze and earthen browns to a much more refined, burnished bronze tone over much of his body. Here and there dark browns the color of rich, freshly tilled soil highlighted the bronze coloration. Darker stripes now marked his tail, with patterning in formless blotches across his haunches and limbs. Scars from battles fought long after Valar lost his father marked his body in several places. Through the many years of his life his early shyness had faded and instead developed into a sort of warm thoughtfulness. And he'd grown far more open with his own affections for those he cared about. He hugged Valar tightly and let his tongue slide up over Valar's nose in a few affectionate licks.

Valar laughed, struggling and pushing at his muzzle. "Alright, alright! I yield!" Still, Valar was hardly offended by the show of affection. It warmed his heart, and helped him feel a bit better for a little while.

Voskalar gave a deep, rumbling laugh, and finally let Valar go. "It's good to see you! You never come by any more. Your mother and I would love it if you visited more often."

Valar huffed and looked away. He pinned his ears back, feeling sheepish. "I know. And...I'm sorry for that. It is...hard for me to face her, sometimes."

"And yet here you are," Voskalar said softly, rising back to all fours. "So it cannot be that impossible a task."

"I hope you're not going to nag me about visiting the entire time I am in fact, visiting," Valar said, smirking.

Voskalar grinned. "Oh, but I must!"

"Let me guess," Valar said, gesturing with a wing for Krek to come forward. "Mother told you bring it up so she wouldn't have too?"

"Oh, she'll bring it up too," Vos said, grinning a little.

"All these years, and you still do everything Mother tells you." Valar laughed.

For a moment, Valar smiled at the dragon who had in so many ways served as his father for much of his life. Valar could never fault Voskalar for any of the things that had happened. The years had proved that the once-shy youngling had a heart filled with love he wanted to share with everyone he could. In time, he had come to share that love with Kylaryn.

"Can you blame me?" Voskalar asked with a little laugh.

"No," Valar said, shaking his head and grinning. "I'd prefer to keep my balls out of the vice, too."

"Better a vice then her damn paw," Vos replied, laughing. He lifted his spines, grinning wickedly. "Besides. Do you not do everything your mate asks you to?"

"Yes," Krek spoke up, ruffling his wings. "He does. Whipped, I tell you. You should see him cowering when Aylyryn approaches. Hanging his head, whimpering, calling her Mistress. Presenting his haunches for a paddling..."

"You're off in your own little fantasy world now, Krek," Valar said, grinning.

"Yes, but it's a fun fantasy," The gryphon replied, then took another step towards Voskalar. "Hello, Voskalar."

Voskalar watched Krek a moment, and then lashed out with a paw to deftly snatch one of Krek's sensitive ears. The gryphon squawked in pain and tried to twist away but found himself unable. Voskalar smirked. "Hello, Krek. You know, I think my son still owes you for pinning him down the last time you visited."

Krek tried twisting in the other direction, beating his wings ineffectually. "Rather a long time to hold a grudge, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is, yes," Voskalar said with a little laugh. "But what have you gotten my step-son wrapped up in this time?"

"He hasn't gotten me wrapped up in anything, Voskalar," Valar said softly. "The web that we are wrapped in now is a weave spun by my mother. We are here to talk to her about the Queen Of Illandra."

"Ah," Voskalar said, slowly releasing Krek's ear. He lowered his paw. His spines all flattened back against his head, and he turned his gaze down to the ground. "I rather feared as much. But, I enjoyed the moments of levity just the same." A smile flickered across his muzzle.

"So it is true?" Valar asked, lifting his voice a little. He reached out and gently placed his paw upon the scutes of Voskalar's front leg.

"I..." Voskalar took comfort in Valar's touch for a moment, then eased his leg away. "I shall have to let your mother answer that."

"And where is my mother?" Valar asked, trying to keep the irritable edge out of his voice. The young dragon's heartbeat was picking up now, his belly knotting. "It is not like her to keep me waiting."

"No," Voskalar said. "It is not. But neither is it like you to turn your back on her for so long a time. It has been hard on her, Valar. She has hoped ever since she visited to see your daughter that you might find it in your heart to forgive her. She has hoped so much that you would come to see her again." Voskalar turned his head to gaze at the banners that hung from the upper balcony of the grand meeting hall. "Come to see all of us here. And now that you finally have, it is only because unpleasant circumstances have forced your actions. She knows how badly you want to stay out of this, Valar. She only keeps you waiting because she is preparing herself to meet with you."

"I...I see," Valar said, holding his breath a moment.

Voskalar reached out and gently cupped Valar's cheek in a paw. "Whatever happens, Valar, she loves you more than you can imagine. She is so immensely proud of you, and what you've become. We both are." Voskalar smiled, and pressed his nose to Valar's. He lowered his voice, almost pleading with the younger dragon. "She will be with you when she has steadied her heart, and dried her eyes."

"I understand," Valar said, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. "I have not come here just to make things difficult for her."

"I know," Voskalar said. He turned and patted Krek on the head before quietly padded back the way he'd come. "Just go easy on her, Valar. Your anger is a very deep wound, and your forgiveness would go a long way towards mending it."

Valar murmured low in his throat and hung his horned head for a moment. Krek brushed his beak against the scales of the dragon's neck. "He's right, you know."

Valar smirked just a little, glancing at his friend. "Shut up, Stink-bird."